Chronicles of the Fallen: Improper Guardian
by Brenli
Summary: Things have settled down in Heaven, Hell, and Assiah. Time has gone by in peace. And Michael's been bored out of his mind, until he is charged with a new task... to become the Guardian Angel of the child of Setsuna and Sara!
1. Chapter 1

AUTHORESS NOTE: It is important to realize that this fanfic takes place many years after the end of "Angel Sanctuary." Easily over 10, which is why Raphael is done resting (and if you have no idea what I mean by that, just delete it from your memory. You'll come across it when you read further into the manga).

I am also going on the assumption that Setsuna and Sara go back to Assiah (Earth). If my assumption is wrong, I'm not going to change anything, but DO tell me if I've deceived myself!

That said, just one more thing you need to know before you read on. I-CHILDREN. If you don't know what those are, listen up! I-Children (Improper Children) are the result of Angel x Angel love. They are branded Fallen at their birth and they reside in the slums of Heaven. I-Children are almost always albino; therefore, they receive the derogatory term of "Rabbits." You'll read that term often in this story.

READ ON!

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter One_

By: Brenli

"Nemaelle?"

'What the Hell kind of a name is Nemaelle, anyway?'

"Nemaelle, sweetie, where are you going?" The father of the female in question asked.

'Away.' The female in question thought, but she said out loud, "Nowhere special. And what were you and Mama thinking when you named me that, seriously?"

"It's derived from Nemamiah. You remember who that is, don't you? It's –"

"The Guardian of those who fight for good causes." The female in question said in unison with her father. "What good cause am I fighting for?"

"No clue. You figure that out on your own, Nema-Nema."

"Nema-Nema is WORSE than Nemaelle!"

The father of the girl only laughed. "Sayonara, Nema-chan."

"Ja ne!" She stepped out of her house, tying the dark red mini-crown on her head and adjusting the black skirt, taken up at certain points to create a scalloped effect just under her knees.

"Another Sunday solo parade." Nema's mother watched her leave. "Her clothes make me think of Heaven, Setsuna."

"That feels like it was a long time ago…"

"When are we going to tell her?"

"Sara, what good would that do? She has enough to deal with, doesn't she? Because of being albino… and because of us."

"… I worry about her. She's 16 now, and guys are looking at her."

"It's better than glaring at her, isn't it?"

"It's not that. But who would want to be with her if they knew about us? And what if something happens in Heaven again? We were her age when we got caught up in that mess, Setsuna…"

"We have so many powerful people on our side, Sara! If that happens again, she'll be better off than we were."

"I certainly hope you're right…"

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Nema continued her walk to the bus station, trying her best to ignore the sidelong glances that her neighborhood fed her. She knew it was more than curiosity about her snow white hair and her equally pale skin, or her blood-red eyes. The people in her neighborhood knew about her parents. They knew she was a product of incestuous love.

To them, she was as sinful as her parents were, but to Nema, her parents were just fine. They simply had the misfortune of being blood-related to each other. She heard them ask rotten questions about the situation, but the questions were never directed toward her, so she never answered them. Questions like, "So if they're okay with brother-sister incest, what are their thoughts on father-daughter incest?" and, "I thought the children of incest were supposed to all be retarded. Is that girl a retard?"

She ignored them all. There were days when she would've bit back, but she stopped herself, especially after an incident with a nun outside of a church. Church children made crosses at her to ward her off, and then began throwing stones at her. One hit Nema in the head. She fell, and a nun came up to her. Nema had cried, 'Incest doesn't matter! I'm good like you! I have an Angel watching over me, too!'

The nun helped her up, cleaned her wound, and said, 'Child, as a product of incest you can never be accepted into the Kingdom of God… I am afraid there is no Angel watching over you. May God have mercy on your soul…'

Nema stopped believing after that. And she quit biting back… most of the time. She had her days, unfortunately. But everyone can relate to it. Days when nothing feels right, and the first reaction is to hit something. It was one of those days for Nema. She could feel it.

"… Look at how… little crown, like a queen… Please… she is a freak…"

"… No other way for her to live life… enjoys being a freak…"

"… Just a freak…"

"… A freak…"

It seemed like the word of the day was 'freak.' Nema bit at the insides of her cheeks, but felt like if one more thing offended her, she would throw a punch.

Someone else was already throwing punches for whatever reason. "Little fucker…! What are you… Go back to HELL!" There was a loud boom and a fiery explosion. By nature, Nema had to check out the scene.

"Oh, shit!" Nema toppled onto the ground as a man equipped with maniacal laughter literally ran into her. "YOU NEED TO FUCKIN' WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, SHRIMP!"

The man in question immediately stopped laughing and glared down at her with blue-green eyes that looked more like green at the moment. His blood-red hair fell in messy locks about his head, his black headband doing nothing to tame his strands. "Shrimp." He hissed, and then pulled her roughly to her feet. The top of her mini-crown made her match his height, but he ripped it off. "WHO'S THE FUCKING SHRIMP, YOU BITCH! DON'T MOUTH OFF TO ME OR I'LL KILL YOU!"

"IS THAT A PROMISE? COME AT ME!"

"YOU!" The redhead growled angrily, and made ready to lunge at her, but something seemed to be holding him back. "IF YOU WEREN'T WHO YOU WERE, YOU BITCH, I'D KILL YOU IN A HEARTBEAT!"

"Well what makes ME so special? I told you to come at me! Do it!"

"I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING SLAVE, WOMAN!" His blue-green eyes burned into her, and then she realized that the tattoo of a blue dragon on his face was what made his eyes look greener than they really were. "You aren't worth my time, woman! So back the fuck off!" And the man turned and began leaving.

"FINE! RUN OFF LIKE A FUCKING COWARD!" Nema wanted to say more, but the redheaded man had spun and thrown the mini-crown formerly on Nema's head at her, hitting her right in the mouth, as if to silence her.

"If you knew HALF the fucking things I've done you'd know that I am NOT a fucking coward!" The man snarled and left again. Nema took up her mini-crown and threw it back, watching it hit the back of his head with a satisfying 'thwack.'

"FOR SOMEONE WEARING A CROSS EARRING ON THEIR LEFT EAR YOU SURE SAY 'FUCKING' A LOT!" She grinned angrily. She enjoyed the returned snarl.

"… YOU… LITTLE… BITCH…! YOU'RE GONNA REGRET THE DAY YOU MET MICHAEL-SAMA!" Suddenly another man was yelling, and Nema shot her gaze toward an angry middle-aged store owner that was coming right for her. Immediately she pointed to where the redheaded Michael stood… but he was no longer there. Neither was her mini-crown, and, apparently, neither was the front of this man's store.

Nema had no choice but to bow apologetically and take the blame for Michael's wrath as she watched a suspicious pile of ash float off in the wind. 'I… HATE… that man…!'

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"I HATE THAT WOMAN!" Michael slammed Nema's mini-crown on Raphael's desk.

"That poor crown has taken a lot of abuse…" Raphael stared at it boredly. Hearing Michael rant was nothing new to Raphael, though at times he rather wished Michael had someone else to yell at.

"Who gives a fuck about that damn crown! I wanna set that stupid thing on FIRE while it's still tied to her head! That God damn bitch… She called me a shrimp, can you believe that? ME! A shrimp, when she's 3 inches shorter than me, easy! Is THIS the kind of gratitude I get for being her fucking Guardian Angel?" Michael hissed. "Who's GRAND idea was it to make me a GUARDIAN ANGEL, anyway?"

"I believe that'd be God."

"Well God has fuckin' ISSUES!"

"Well we all know that, already…"

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME RANT, RAPHAEL?" Michael snatched the mini-crown off Raphael's desk and threw it at the door. "I'm sick of her… SICK of her! That stupid bitch; what's her name, anyway?"

"Nemaelle, I believe… You SHOULD know that, though, Michael."

"I don't need to know SHIT about her! I didn't want this job, and I'm SICK of looking after her!"

'You look after her?' Raphael thought to himself, smiling.

"What are you smiling about? You think this is FUNNY?"

"No, I never said that."

"Then STOP smiling!" Michael demanded, though Raphael continued to smile. "Hey, I've got an idea…! Why don't YOU take over the job?"

"Um, no."

"Why not? She is a WOMAN, after all. Just like you like 'em."

Raphael sent Michael a cold gaze. "… I'm a little over that by now, Michael."

"But only A LITTLE!" Michael said persuasively.

"How about I save you a lot of breath and tell you, 'no'?" Raphael smirked. "You're stuck with her. Deal with it." Raphael ignored Michael's frustrated snarl. "So, have you heard about the latest uproar here these days?"

"No, why don't you enlighten me?" Michael said through gritted teeth.

"It's concerning the I-Children… There's been a lot of rallying to get rid of them. You know how no one likes them, and they're really just homeless, for the most part."

"… So?"

"So everyone is seeking the opinions of the highest ranking Angels, of course…! That means you and I."

"Well you know I couldn't give a flying fuck about those Improper, Rabbit-lookin' things! It's all political gaming; the government is just trying to make itself look busy now that the big stuff's all been done. So what do I care what they do to them?"

Raphael was silent for a long while, and Michael itched to look over his shoulder at his closest friend. He made a big show of picking up Nema's now-battered crown before he did.

Raphael was staring up at him with boredom written all over himself, and yet Michael couldn't help but feel he'd missed something. He opened his mouth to speak, but Raphael beat him to it. "There is more news. Particular to you."

Michael's eyes blinked rapidly. "Oh? Something for me to kill?"

Raphael laughed. "You'd get in trouble if you killed Nemaelle, Michael!" Raphael dodged the mini-crown that came flying at him. "Apparently, Nemaelle requires closer watch… You're going to be spending time down in Assiah."

"… NAAAAAAAANI?" Michael screamed, slamming his fists into Raphael's desk.

"Stop that, you'll leave dents again."

"DON'T TELL ME TO STOP! AND WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, 'SPENDING TIME DOWN IN ASSIAH'? WHY DO I NEED TO DO THAT?"

"I already told you. Nemaelle requires closer watch."

"DOOOOOOOOUSHITE?" Michael demanded angrily.

"Calm down. Use this as a stress ball." Raphael tossed him the mini-crown, and Michael squeezed the life out of it. It did nothing to quell his rage. "As for the reason why she needs to be under closer watch… I'm not sure." Raphael did not sound in the least bit unsure. "But you HAVE been neglecting her like mad… Maybe this is some kind of penalty."

"An EXTREME penalty…! I'd rather get my wings ripped off!" Michael responded heartily. "… What's your deal, Raphael? You disagree with me?"

Raphael gave him the same bored stare that seemed to conceal a secret. "… I hope you didn't tell Nemaelle that you are her Guardian Angel."

"Feh! No."

"Or even that you're an Angel in general."

"No…"

"Or even that you have powers –"

"RAPHAEL! I SAID NO!"

"Ah, good then." Raphael said with a pleased smile on his face. "From what I understand you leave tomorrow. You might wanna check with others, though."

Michael stared down at the nearly destroyed mini-crown.

"You should take that to Barbiel… I don't think she does much sewing but she can find someone to fix that."

Michael went red at the ears in his anger. "YOU take the damn thing to her!" He threw it at Raphael, but growled as he watched the Wind Angel catch it with one hand. "… I fucking HATE you, Raphael!"

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Nema stomped into her house a full two hours early, leaving her parents surprised.

"Nemaelle? Nema-chan, it's Dad."

"… Oh. Come in." Nema's muffled voice.

Setsuna stepped in, watching his daughter slaving away over something. "What are you doing?"

"Making a new mini-crown." She said shortly.

"Sou da na." He replied. "… Your mother noticed you came home early… No one in Harajuku to stare at you today?"

"I never even GOT to Harajuku today. I just said, 'fuck it!'" Nema snarled.

"Doushite, Nema-chan?" Setsuna asked, picking up the beginnings of a replacement, dark red mini-crown.

"You won't even fucking believe me, Dad! This total ASSHOLE picked a fight with me!"

He blinked rapidly. "Is that so? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, just pissed!" Nema mumbled. "So I'm walking to the bus station and this complete JERK just PLOWS into me and knocks me over! And I tell him to watch where he's going, and then he's got the nerve to heave me up and rip my mini-crown off my head! He never even apologized!" Nema began working on the mini-crown again. "He even THREW my mini-crown at me! I threw it back at him, and before I knew it, he was gone! Fucking jerk!"

"You remember what he looked like?" Setsuna asked with tones of anger tainting his voice.

"He's like, 3 or so inches taller than me. About my age, with blue-green eyes and bright red hair."

"Red hair…?" Her father said with an arched, light brown brow.

"Yeah. He's probably a foreigner or something." Nema muttered. "Not even one of the cool ones, too, 'cause of that fucking attitude problem! I mean, you can TELL he's one of those stupid egocentric bastards. He's even got one of those face tattoos…! I mean, how vain can you be to actually get one of THOSE?"

"Face tattoo…? Of what?" Setsuna was asking more out of curiosity than anger, now.

"This blue dragon… Ooooh! 'Cause that makes him SO COOL now!" Nema put her unfinished mini-crown off to the side. "And he's all going off, 'You'll regret the day you met Michael-sama!' Feh! He'll regret the day he fuckin' met ME!"

"Michael-sama…" Setsuna mumbled.

"Yeah… But… just… don't worry about it, Dad."

"… Okay. Have fun with your crown, Nema-chan."

"Hai."

Setsuna left his daughter, shutting the door after him. "Jesus, Sara!" He jumped back, frightened at the closeness of Sara's face.

"Is she okay?" Nema's mother asked worriedly.

"… You're not gonna believe me if I tell you. Come on." And once they were a safe distance away, Setsuna spoke again. "Nema-chan had an encounter with Michael."

"… Michael…? … THAT Michael?"

"The Fire Angel himself. Apparently he treated her rudely, and that's why she's home early."

"That figures, ne?" Sara pondered aloud. "But what is he doing here?"

"I don't know. But Michael's a born rebel. He's probably just dropping down here for the sake of breaking rules." Setsuna smiled. "It's nothing to get worked up over, okay, Sara?"

"Hai…"

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"Ohayoooo…!"

"Nema-Nema, you're gonna be late for school AGAIN!" Sara cried, thrusting a box-lunch at her daughter. "And WHY are you wearing that mini-crown?"

"It's school colors!"

"… I never got away with that…"

"You went to a religious school, Mom." Nema pressed a quick kiss to Sara's cheek. "Ja ne!"

"Ja!"

Nema rushed out of her parents' house, shutting the door behind her. She decided that to make up for the completely terrible day she'd had yesterday, today would be a great day. She decided that nothing, nothing at ALL, would go wrong for her, and that she would have plenty of reasons to smile today. And she did smile…

Until she saw a biker gloved hand held out, with her dark red mini-crown swinging from it. "Oh God…" She whimpered, her voice dripping with despair.

Michael looked over his shoulder at her. "God's a jerk, kid. Here, you want this?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Two_

By: Brenli

Nema snatched the mini-crown from Michael's hand, staring up at him with suspicious eyes. Michael returned the stare with an angry one. "What the fuck are you lookin' at me like THAT, for? I gave you back your crown! Can't you show some fucking GRATITUDE?"

She bowed stiffly. "Domo."

"You don't even SOUND genuine about it!" Michael snapped. "Fucking bitch…" He added in a hiss.

Nema opened her mouth, ready to scream at him. "… Fuck you. I'm late." She moved around him, but purposely slammed her shoulder into him in the process, satisfied with the low, angry growl that escaped him.

"Where are YOU going that's so fucking important?" He asked, following her.

"Um, SCHOOL. You know what that is, right?"

"Don't be a smartass, bitch!"

"… PLEASE don't tell me you're going to MY school. I'll cut myself if you are." Nema looked over her shoulder at Michael, noticing that he wasn't wearing a school uniform. His clothes didn't even fit regulations, at least at her school. His black pants were too loose. They did not allow boots, or at least ones as big as his were. Gloves came off once inside the building, and to top it all off, his black shirt was completely unbuttoned, revealing the rest of his dragon tattoo as it stretched down his neck, its wing spreading over the left side of his chest.

"You know what I think of cutters? I think they're fucking weak." Michael scoffed. "But I guess it wouldn't be surprising if YOU sunk to that level, huh?"

"Don't talk to me!" Nema moved to deliver a sharp slap, but Michael was quick to block it, maintaining a hard grip on her wrist.

"You have NO idea how fucking brave you are to attempt striking me, bitch!" Michael's eyes bore into hers. Then his eyes caught scars. "What's this…?" His grip became tighter, and then he forced her arm out. The scars were peculiar and pale, hard to see against her milky-white skin, but with careful observation, they were there. There were two scars that formed to make a cross shape, one long line traveling down the length of the underside of her forearm, the other perpendicular, and across her wrist. If she kept her arm down with her wrist flipped out, it would have been a nearly-invisible image of an inverted cross. "… Huh." He let her go. Nema's face had gone red but she showed him her other arm, covered with the same marks. "… See? Wasn't surprising at all!"

"Fuck you, Michael!" Nema spat.

"That's Michael-SAMA, to you!"

"Oh, gomen, gomen!" Nema held a sarcastic hand against her mouth. "I mean, fuck you, Michael-SAMAAAA!"

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO BE SMARTASS!"

"And does it LOOK like I care? Go away, already! You're making me even later than I already am!" Nema rushed off, but could still hear the heavy 'thud' of Michael's big black boots. "… You're NOT going to my school?"

"I don't know, am I?"

"ANSWER MY QUESTION, MICHAEL!"

Michael remained silent, letting his black shirt slip down his arms. He seemed so vain, Nema wanted to vomit. She could hear him whistling casually, yet he seemed to be waiting for something.

"… ANSWER MY QUESTION, MICHAEL-SAMA!" She wanted to hit herself.

"There we go, that's more like it!" Michael sneered cruelly. "Now, you mean as a student? 'Cause that'd be a 'no.'"

"Thank God."

"What are you thanking THAT asshole for?" Michael snarled.

"For someone wearing a cross on their ear, you definitely don't like God very much." Nema said dryly.

"I DESPISE the guy, these days!"

"What did He do to you?"

"Not any of your business, is it?" Michael snapped. "So how long does it take till you get to school?"

"What do YOU care? You're not going to school with me!"

"Now who the Hell told you THAT, idiot?"

"Okay, I DON'T appreciate being called an IDIOT, Michael-SAMA!" Nema spun and glared at him, walking backwards. "… Why are you following me?"

"That's not your business, either!"

"HOW IS IT NOT?"

"Okay, maybe it is, and I just don't CARE whether you know or not!" Michael smiled evilly at her.

"I fucking hate you…" Nema muttered as she spun around.

"The feeling's mutual!"

They spent the majority of the walk in an uneasy silence. Nema could feel the hatred radiating from Michael, and so she could not understand what compelled him to follow her. Did he enjoy being angry? What did he want with her? She stopped at a dark alleyway, just before the entrance to her school. "… Are you stalking me?"

"What?" Michael asked, clearly removed from a daydream.

"You're stalking me, aren't you?" Nema eyed him suspiciously. "You one of those psychopathic killers?"

His eyes narrowed. "… What?"

"You heard me. You're gonna kill me, huh? Drag me in that alleyway and do me in?"

"Feh! I fucking wish I could!"

"Well what's stopping you, then?" Nema dropped her schoolbag on the ground. "The alleyway's right there! You wanna try and kill me?"

Michael sneered. "Fuck you. Get your ass to school!"

"What, AFTER school, then?"

"IF YOU KEEP UP THIS SHIT, HELL YES!"

Nema was enjoying the rage she was stirring up within him. "Why so late? Why not take a swing at it, now?"

She'd managed to make him snap, if being thrust into the alley and pushed up against a cold wall was any proof of that. "You LIKE making death wishes?"

"Why not? It'll get me away from YOU, you freak!"

"I'm a freak…? When you're some fuckin' ghostly girl?" Michael spat on her and let her go. "Don't fucking push it, woman! I'll beat you!"

"Is that all?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'IS THAT ALL?'"

"If all you're going to do is beat me, I could deal with that! Right now, even!"

Michael growled and lunged at her, sending a fist at her stomach, but she quickly dodged and landed a kick into his back. She expected to see him go flying, but by some miracle, he only stumbled and turned. He slammed himself into her with unworldly strength, and they landed on the ground. It was only a matter of seconds before Michael had her completely pinned. "Listen, you BITCH, I might not be allowed to KILL you, but I CAN… and at this rate I WILL… beat the SHIT out of you. Don't think I'm AFRAID to."

Nema spat at him.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" Michael sneered at her smiling face. "WHAT THE FUCK IS SO FUNNY?"

"Nothing, it's just that I get it, now!"

"Get WHAT?"

"You! You're a rapist, aren't you?"

"… NAAAAAANI?"

"You've got me pinned and my skirt's all hiked up! AND you're trying to make me scared? You're definitely a rapist!"

Michael went wide-eyed and immediately let her go. "I wouldn't stick my dick in you even if it WAS to just to rape you!"

Nema stood up and smoothed her skirt down. "Yeah, uh huh. What's wrong, you don't like my body?"

Michael scoffed. "You women are all alike! You're all whores! Why would I want to spend time with you whores?"

Nema held a hand over her heart. "Ooooh, I'm hurt."

"Get your ass in school, Nemaelle. I'm tired of dealing with you."

Nema's face went blank, and her hand dropped away from its position over her heart. "… I never told you my name. How did you know that?"

She watched Michael stare at her feet as though he hated them, and then his gaze moved up to her face. "… That's not any of your business, either. Go away."

Just then the schoolbell rang, and Nema knew she was tardy. "Fine, stalker." She turned and moved to her bag, but then landed face first into it as Michael gave her a swift kick between her shoulder blades. "WHAH DA FUCK?" The bag muffled her voice.

"Karma's a bitch, ne?"

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"Is that who I think it is…?"

"It would seem so. The Archangel Michael of Powers."

"What is he doing on Assiah? And with a Rabbit, no less? Do you think he's gone Rabbit hunting, too?"

"If he was, he would have killed the Improper Child by now."

The two overshadowed figures were perched in trees, watching Michael as he flew to the roof of Nema's school.

"… Then what is he doing…?"

"Being Michael. I don't know."

"… Did he submit an opinion on the matters at hand?"

"No."

"Then we do not know if he is for us or against us."

"It would seem so."

"… How do we regard him?"

"Not someone to be trusted. BUT… not someone to be messed with."

"And the Rabbit?"

"Let him deal with this Rabbit. Maybe he has something up his sleeve. Or maybe, that Rabbit isn't a Rabbit at all. There are cases of albino humans. Rare, but existent. Powerless and of no importance to us."

"Humans make everything complicated…"

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Nema spent the whole school day in a depression. It seemed that in every class she was in, if she looked out the window, her red eyes would catch sight of Michael outside. He was sitting in a tree, or against a tree, or, if there was no tree to sit against, he was standing. But always, always, he maintained the same angry, bored expression, as if he was so high and mighty, and had somewhere better to be.

'Well, if that's so, why's he spending his time with me?' Nema thought angrily, doodling on the corner of her paper. Maybe he WAS a killer. And, maybe, for whatever odd reason, he could only afford to do it after school.

She decided that he was an assassin of sorts, and someone had hired him to kill her. She drew a knife sticking out of a stick figure. 'Look at my fate.'

The bell rang for lunch, and before she left, she stepped up to the chalkboard and wrote, 'It was nice seeing you,' on it. None of the other students understood what that meant and dismissed it as a cry for attention.

Nema went up to the roof for lunch, where it was usually isolated, and found Michael crouched down, staring at the ground below. "Michael."

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Michael what?"

Nema sighed. "Michael-sama, you prink."

"Thank you, bitch. What are you eating?"

"Food." She said shortly, opening her box-lunch with its little compartments. To her surprise, Michael's gloved hand shot toward her food, and she quickly stabbed his hand. "Allow me my last meal, fucker!"

"Last meal? You going anorexic on me?"

"What the fuck are you talking about? I know you want me dead. Or at least that SOMEONE wants me dead."

"I already TOLD you! I'm not ALLOWED to kill you, you idiot! FUCK! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Michael slugged her arm in response to her stabbing him once again with her chopsticks.

"Stop calling me an idiot." She said, cleaning off her chopsticks before using them to eat more rice. "For that matter, stop calling me a bitch, or woman. You know my name, so fucking USE it!"

Michael only glared and grumbled.

"So why can't you kill me?"

"That's information I can't share."

"Sharing is caring!" Nema said childishly.

"SINCE WHEN DID I CARE ABOUT YOU?" Michael growled. "Eat your fucking food and shut up!"

Nema obeyed, not out of any sort of submission to him, but simply because she was hungry. She ate quickly, observing Michael's never-ending gaze on a tree. Vaguely she thought she could hear the tree in question rustle, and suddenly Michael's gaze shifted to the tree next to it. "… You watching something?"

"No."

"… Fucking liar."

"Well look who's doing the name calling NOW?" Michael snapped. "Shut up and eat!"

"I'm finished eating."

"Then go steal someone else's food!"

But it was at this moment that bell rang for classes to begin once more. Nema smiled. "No time. Have fun bird watching, or tree watching, or whatever."

"Fuck you."

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Michael went through the rest of the school day in the same boring way, making sure Nema was at least in earshot. Which actually wasn't that hard, because of his excellent hearing, but he tried to keep her in his line of vision, too. She kept catching his ever-watchful eyes, but he didn't care. If she was really worried, she would have reported him the second she stepped into the school, which was territory he wasn't getting into. He knew that even if he tried to pose as a student, he'd get kicked out in one day. So he didn't even bother trying.

It was the last class of the day, and Nema had met his gaze again. This time around she began to write something on paper with a thick marker, and then she held it up to the window for him to see. The impromptu sign said, 'GO AWAY!' and Michael simply flipped her off for it. He could go back, sure, but then he would be put right back down here again. No point in trying. He was screwed.

Nema flipped him off as well, and immediately faced the wrath of her teacher. For the first time that day Michael genuinely laughed. "That's what you get!" He mouthed up to her, and she could only glare back down at him.

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"I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY!" Nema said loudly as she met up with Michael after school. "I have detention for tomorrow, now! Fucking hallway cleanup!"

Michael grinned rudely. "Well then I'm VERY fucking happy! My mission is complete!"

"Good! Then go home!"

"Don't you think I would if I could?"

"Oh? What are you, a bum?"

"NO! YOU SHUT –"

"Michael-sama."

Nema watched Michael's angry face turn to a tree, from which a figure dropped down and stepped forth. It was a tall, broad-shouldered figure, hiding under a dark cloak. Thick locks of blonde hair fell over the figure's eyes. "…Cheriour."

"Who?" Nema asked.

"SHUT UP!" Michael hissed, and turned to the figure. "What are you doing here? Someone run off? Trying to hunt 'em down?"

"… I am hunting, yes." The figure known as Cheriour said slowly. Nema watched him give a quick nod, and several other figures wearing the same cloaks came forth and crowded around her. She shrank away from their cold eyes, though she ought to be used to harsh stares.

Michael looked over his shoulder at her. "Hunting for HER?"

Cheriour paused. "… A word with you, Michael-sama." He gave another quick nod and the other cloaked figures tightened their circle around her. Nema held her breath for a short moment, but then dropped her bag on the ground. It figured. She was going to die, now.

"Don't dick around the kid, Cheriour. She's not your God damn duty." Michael snarled.

Cheriour gave the Archangel a cold smile. "Of course not. We all know she is your duty. I'm merely making sure she doesn't run away from you. Now follow me."

"… Talk." Michael said boredly, when they had gone to the back of Nema's school.

"Always right to the point, aren't you? That's why you are the epitome of the War Angel. There is no time for small talk in the heat of battle." Cheriour kept his cold smile on his face.

"Feh!" Michael dismissed the compliment with a wave of his hand. "What do you want from me?"

"An opinion."

"On?"

"The I-Children."

Michael sneered at the subject. "You came down here just for THAT? Fine, then listen up. I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU DO TO THEM. KILL THEM ALL, FOR ALL I CARE. Did you catch all that?"

Cheriour took out a short sword, examining the blade with that chilling smile of his. He tapped the blade on the chain-link fence nearby, letting a sharp tinging sound ring out. "And that one…?"

Michael stared at the other Angel with suspicious eyes. "Nemaelle? … You think she's a Rabbit?"

"She looks like one, does she not?"

"Too bad she can't FLY like one, or anything like THAT."

"… You are saying that she isn't a Rabbit?"

"Can't you put two and fucking two together, Cheriour?" Michael snapped irritably. "She can't fly and she has no powers to call her own. At best all she does is grappling and basic karate. I know, because we fought earlier." Cheriour absorbed this information, letting the short sword drag along the metal railing of the fence, letting shrill sounds ring out. "What's more, why the HELL would they assign an Angel to watch over ANOTHER Angel? That's pointless shit."

"… You have good points. But she IS a child of Alexiel and Jibrille, is she not?"

"She's the kid of SETSUNA and SARA. HUMANS."

"And you don't think there's even a slight chance that this Nemaelle could still be an I-Child? Consider past events involving Setsuna and Sara Mudou. Their souls were put into the bodies of Alexiel and Jibrille. Don't you think there is a possibility that could affect their child?"

Michael gave Cheriour a sidelong, annoyed, but thoughtful stare. "… I guess there's always that chance."

Cheriour smiled again and tapped the blade of the sword on the fence twice. "Well then. That's all I'm suggesting."

"Well I say your suggestion is still for SHIT. Until Nemaelle flies around and shoots energy beams at me, I'm going to continue believing she's just an albino weakling."

"And I believe in your judgment, Michael-sama." Cheriour gave him a small bow.

"… I knew you had people surround this place. Even NOW there's still some of your henchmen in hiding. ALL of that, over HER? She's not worth your time. I honestly don't think she's worth MY time, but I don't have a choice in the matter."

"We had to make sure what she was, Michael-sama. We must be careful about this business concerning the I-Children. Anyone under even the slightest suspicion must be considered."

Michael scoffed. "You're just making a big show of being part of the big, bad government. There's no reason to fight Hell anymore, so what do you resort to? Civil matters. Gotta look like you're ALWAYS ready to kick ass, even if it means taking out people of Heaven!" Michael laughed at Cheriour scornfully. "And since you're supposed to be so BUSY with the I-Children, what the fuck are you doing HERE?"

Cheriour had been scowling at Michael, but when he asked that final question, the cold smile returned. "We're hunting Rabbits." He tapped the sword on the fence three times, and as if on cue, Nema screamed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Three_

By: Brenli

Michael's blue-green eyes went wide for a fraction of a second. "What the fuck, Cheriour?" The redheaded Archangel shoved him aside and slammed his weight into the mass of Angels, working his way into the mass and finding Nema using all her limbs in attempts to ward the Angels off. Already, several were suffering from broken noses, but one of the amazing qualities of being an Angel is the ability to endure insane amounts of pain. Try as she might, she was out of luck, until Michael reached her. Nema blinked up at him with wide red eyes, her school uniform torn up. "… Ah, for crying out loud, you're all fucking perverts!" Michael hissed and heaved Nema to her feet.

"There's always that chance, Michael-sama. Let us take care of the girl." Cheriour said as he calmly approached.

"She's not yours to fucking take care of! Why don't you fucking LEAVE and take care of the OTHER ones, or something?"

"We can't do that."

"WHY THE FUCK NOT?"

"We've already started. What's the point in leaving it unfinished?" Cheriour put away his short sword in favor of his second, longer one. "Whose side are you on? This Rabbit's, or ours?"

"I'm on my OWN damn side!" Michael snarled. "… Don't make me do anything. She doesn't know who I really am."

"Well then she can learn tonight, can't she?" Cheriour raised his sword and charged. "FIGHT ME!"

Michael wanted to fight. It was never in his nature to turn down an offer to fight. And yet the parting words of Raphael decided to pick at him. 'Remember that God has demanded that she can't know you're protecting her. So no displays of your power. Not even your sword. Not even your wings.' "… DAMMIT, GOD! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO COMPLICATE EVERYTHING?" Michael snatched Nema's hand and did the last thing he really wanted to do. He ran.

"MICHAEL, WHAT IS GOING ON?" Nema screamed as an Angel managed to rip off one of her shoes.

"I'm taking you home! And you're gonna STAY there, you got that? If I find out you've left home the second I put you there, I WILL KILL YOU!"

Nema had gotten used to this threat by now, and thought nothing of it. She had every intention of sneaking out once he left her there.

Her house was just one block away from them, now. Then just two steps. Then they were in her yard, and, for reasons unexplained, Michael decided to shove her in through her bedroom window, which she'd left open. "HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

"What's it look like?" Michael retorted, roughly kicking her rear and sending her body flying into the room. "Now STAY!"

"My other shoe fell off!"

"Oh for – HERE!" Michael picked it up and chucked it into her room, hitting Nema on the forehead. Without another word, Michael left, and when he was sure Nema wouldn't see, he brought out his snowy white wings and opted for flying.

He remained completely oblivious to the fact that Nema threw on another pair of shoes and was climbing back out of the window.

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"Raphael!"

"Why, it's Mika-chan!"

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!" Michael snarled at his friend. "I'm just here to get my sword!"

"Your sword? What's up?" Raphael asked with an arched, golden brow.

"That prick Cheriour is pickin' a fight. I'm going to end it!"

"Oh, right, with his whole Rabbit Hunting thing."

"Yeah, yeah, I know about that shit." Michael dismissed Raphael with a wave of his hand. "Ah! THERE it is!" He said with a devilish grin, hefting up his large, broad Fire Sword and strapping it to his back.

"Would you like backup?"

"No. I've got a lot of pent-up anger to take out on them."

"Right then. Don't need to tell you to have fun."

Michael's grin widened as he left.

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"Where did he go, boss?"

Cheriour had perched himself on the roof of Nema's school. "Probably went to get his sword. He'll be back soon."

"HE'S HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Cheriour almost didn't turn in time to block what would have been a devastating blow to the head. "MICHAEL-SAMA! NEVER ONE FOR CHIVALRY, WERE YOU?"

Michael seemed to float above him, his white wings spread. "It's all nonsense. You wanna kill something, you KILL it!" Michael rushed at Cheriour, making quick slashes with his large, heavy-looking sword. In spite of its weight, Michael wielded the weapon as though it were as light as air.

"Don't you think this is a bit unfair, my simple sword against one as powerful as yours?" Cheriour commented as he parried each angry shot.

"Not my fucking concern, is it?" Michael grinned, feeling the adrenaline run through his body. This was what he was made for, and the only time he felt complete. When he was about to spill blood. As the heavy, dark blade of his sword met Cheriour's, he heard the cracking of metal, and suddenly Cheriour's sword had been shattered. "… NOW it's my concern. That was TOO easy! If you had more talent, you could've lasted at least a LITTLE longer! But oh well." Michael's grin remained as he lifted the blade of his beloved sword up high. "Say goodnight, Cheriour."

"… MICHAEL?"

It was the biggest mistake Nema had ever done; calling out to him like that. It was enough to make Michael lose his concentration and enough to make Cheriour trip him. The Fire Sword was no longer in its master's hand. "GOD DAMMIT, NEMAELLE! I WILL KILL YOU!" Michael screamed as he grappled with Cheriour.

Nema wasn't sure what to do. She was beginning to wish that she'd obeyed Michael, now. She thought about the weird cloaked men, and Michael's wings, and then was unable to think of anything else.

Raphael had come up behind her and knocked her out cold. Catching her in his arms, he offered a quick nod to the other men. "Hi. I think your boss needs a little help."

It finally registered that their master was having difficulty, even with the obvious advantage of having a short sword on him. Even with it brandished, Cheriour couldn't seem to get at Michael. He managed a few shallow cuts, but nothing more. The other cloaked men, along with a flood of others that left from all sorts of hiding places, rushed up along the building, into the building, and on top.

They had no idea how foolish they were.

Michael's frustration had turned into a deep loathing, and that was all he needed to set himself on fire. He literally exploded in flame, and the whole building caught on fire, filled with Cherior's henchmen. Cheriour, too, was set aflame, and he shot up into the sky, where he disappeared with what other Angels could manage to escape.

After a short while, Michael's laughter could be heard from the roof of Nema's school. It started as a snicker and progressed into maniacal laughter. "OH, YOU FUCKING WEAKLINGS! I'M STILL HERE! FIGHT ME!"

"Mika-chan!" Raphael called up to him. "You have other things to attend to!"

Through the giant house of fire Raphael could make out a particular flame coming up to a stand, picking up the Fire Sword. Michael, still set on fire, flew down to them, where Raphael made a gesture with his hand and sent a gust of wind to make the flames die down. "… That fucking bitch, she saw me!"

"You're lucky, though. I knocked her out. So all we need to do is take her home, get her all dressed for bed, tuck her in, all that goodness. When tomorrow rolls around, play dumb. Tell her that perhaps she had a dream."

Michael blinked.

"… Also, I see you've learned to do that without giving yourself any burns. A lock of hair's still smoldering, though." He licked his fingers and pinched out the glowing ends of hair. "You'll have to trim that lock down a bit…"

Michael wasn't listening to him. "I'm… not… dressing… her."

"But if she wakes up in a torn uniform, don't you think that ruins the plan?"

"YOU can fucking do it, you pervert! I'm not touching that disgusting body!"

"Oh, I've touched more disgusting bodies." Raphael rolled his eyes. "She is very fit-looking. She must be an agile girl. Good for fighting."

"Feh! … I guess for a human she delivers a good kick, but that's all she is. A fucking human." Michael leaned on his sword. "So… should we get going?"

As if on cue, the roof of Nema's school… or former school… collapsed. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

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"Quick news flash! Shibuya Senior High School has been burnt down! A few students, several teachers, and many unidentified bodies have been found, along with what appears to be the bones belonging to some kind of animal! Scientists are confirming that they belong to a large number of giant birds; however, only the wing bones can be found! We go now to a witness who says that he saw several balls of fire rush up into the sky…"

"SETSUNA! That's Nema-chan's school!" Sara cried. "She couldn't be… could she?"

The doorbell rang, and Setsuna went to answer it, though he was making the trip slow. Setsuna heard voices from outside the door.

"Will you hold her now?"

"NO!"

"Why not? You're her Guardian Angel! Not me!"

"SO? I'll guard her while you hold her!"

Setsuna threw open the door the moment he heard the word, 'angel.' Raphael and Michael stood at the doorstep, Nema lying in Raphael's arms, though the Wind Angel was holding her out to Michael. Setsuna had to blink rapidly in order to make sense of what he saw.

Raphael gave Setsuna a polite nod of his head. "Hello, there. Long time, no see…! May we come in?"

"Y… yes! Come in, come in!" Setsuna made way for them. "SARA! Nema's home… with company!"

Michael marched in first, with Raphael right behind him, still speaking. "We apologize about her condition, but with plenty of rest and a fresh change of clothes, she should be just fine."

Sara held a hand over her mouth. "Raphael…! Michael…!"

"There'll be time for chitchat later, tend to your kid!" Michael snapped.

Sara was already helping Nema up to her room as she slowly regained consciousness.

"Maaaaaamaaaaaaaaa… I saw that jerrrrk… he had a biiiig sworrrrrd…"

"That's nice, honey. Let's get you changed into your pajamas."

"But I don't wannaaaaaa take a naaaaap…"

Sara quickly ushered the delusional Nema away, while Setsuna shut the door and began to speak. "Was it M-"

"Yep." Michael said shortly.

"Wh-"

"I did it to save your kid." Michael said this shortly, as well.

"… Than-"

"Welcome."

Setsuna stared at the two Archangels for a while. "… Tea?"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"So we've got a lot of explaining to do. If Michael wouldn't mind taking the floor right now…?"

"I mind. I mind a lot." Michael took a quick sip of tea, giving Raphael an annoyed look.

"Well it's just that I don't know where to start…"

"AND YOU THINK I DO?"

"Shh, Mika-chan, Nemaelle is sleeping."

Michael grumbled.

"Maybe it'll help if Sara and I ask questions." Setsuna said. "What are you two doing down here?"

"Well, I merely came down here to help Michael out. You see, Michael was assigned to be Nemaelle's Guardian Angel."

Setsuna could not help but let out a short laugh.

"What's so funny about it?" Michael asked darkly.

"Nothing… but you don't seem to be the right type for the job." Setsuna poured him more tea.

"Oh, he's not," Raphael said, "But he is nonetheless Nemaelle's – You call her Nema for short, right? – Guardian Angel. Recent events have caused him to come down here and keep closer watch over Nema."

"… What events?" Sara asked cautiously.

"Actually, God just told him to get his ass down here and never gave a specific reason. But I have my ideas about it." Raphael stared down into his teacup. "… Setsuna, is your daughter an I-Child?"

"No." He replied.

"Feh! I could'a told you that!" Michael spat.

"… We doubt it, anyway. She looks like one, but she has no wings and powers, so we assume it's all coincidental…" Sara told them.

"… Michael and I hope you're right." Raphael felt the need to include Michael's name, even if Michael couldn't care less. "Heaven's been rallying to get rid of the I-Children. It's my belief that Michael's been sent down here to make sure nothing happens to Nema because of it."

"… And you couldn't tell me this BEFORE I left?" Michael asked angrily.

"You know, if you put two and two together, I kind of did." Raphael gave Michael that bored stare he liked to give out. "I told you about Heaven's rallying AND I told you that you were going to be sent down to Assiah. Nema IS albino. It should've clicked. … Or did you even pay any attention to Nema's appearance until now?"

Michael came to a stand and growled at him.

"Sit down. You're not picking a fight with me while you're in here." Raphael said calmly. "… Anyway… There are groups of Angels in Assiah, trying to pick out any I-Children here. Your daughter is highly suspected. But rest assured, I-Child or not, Michael will be here to protect her from any harm. … He might damage other things in the process, but Nema should be safe. That's the important part."

Michael saw Sara looking up at him with the utmost gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you for guarding her, Michael-sama."

"… Yeah, don't thank me. I demand stuff of you."

"Such as?"

"Living here. I need somewhere to stay. If I just sit on your roof all the time, it's not gonna work to well."

Nema's parents grew silent.

"… What?"

"It's nothing…" Setsuna said, "Only that Nema… doesn't seem to appreciate your… personality very much."

"Yeah, well the feeling's mutual, so whatever." Michael mumbled darkly.

Sara smiled. "I think that you are both too easily angry. Setsuna and I noticed that the moment she was born. She can be so fiery! I guess we should've known that you were watching over her, Michael-sama. She acts a bit like you!"

Michael offered a short, "Hmph!" and turned his eyes to the window, and Raphael knew Michael didn't want to fess up to the fact that he rarely performed his duties as a Guardian Angel. He loathed the idea and often pretended that there was no one to look after. Sometimes, when he was bored, he decided to go along with it, but he soon tired of it and did something else. He'd been a Guardian Angel for sixteen years but had only truly acted even slightly like one for a grand total of one day.

Raphael saw Sara smiling at what she considered typical Michael behavior, though she only saw the surface of it. He didn't have the heart to break Michael's cover, so he didn't, but he couldn't help but wonder what the lack of protection had left Nema to deal with. She was abnormal to see, but what's more, the daughter of incest. What kind of childhood would that be like?

"… Who are you…?"

Raphael turned to see that Nema, bleary-eyed, had wandered in the room they were at. "I'm a friend of Michael's."

"… Are you a jerk like him?"

Raphael snickered as Michael grit his teeth. "No."

"… Okay, cool then." Nema turned to Sara. "Mom… where am I going to go to school, now?"

"School is the least of our worries…! You're swaying, go back to bed." Sara said in that gentle, yet demanding motherly tone.

"… Why are you here, Michael-samaaaaaaa?" Nema asked with a cruel, though weak, smile on her face.

"'Cause I CAN be." Michael snapped. "I'm living with you for a while, you hear? So DEAL with it."

Nema stared at him sleepily, and then turned away. "I'm gonna go hang myself now…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Four_

By: Brenli

Nema's alarm clock went off at about 6:30 A.M. Her head didn't feel like it had caved in, anymore, but sleep made her sluggish and half-blind as she attempted smacking her alarm clock with a tight fist. SMACK! No, she hit the table. She needed to go further left. SMACK! No, and ouch, she'd slammed her fist onto one of the excessively curled legs of her antique, wiry-looking lamp. After shaking the pain from her hand she thought that maybe she should go further right, instead. She brought her fist down swiftly, but it was quickly intercepted by a strong hand. Nema was scared into alertness was she watched another hand grope over to her alarm clock and shut it off.

"I'm not your fucking alarm clock. If you try to hit my head again, I will kill you." Michael said drowsily.

Nema pulled her hand away from his grasp, frowning. "… I thought all of yesterday was a nightmare."

"Well, I thought you said you were going to hang yourself, and that never happened, did it?" Michael snapped. He followed her gaze to his Fire Sword, which he'd propped against her bookcase. "Yeah, I'm leaving that there."

"… Michael, what are you? Who were those people?"

Michael grumbled before answering. "… Who were what people?"

"Those people with the cloaks and the wings! You have wings, too!"

"No, I don't. And who the Hell are these people you keep talking about?" Michael lied effortlessly.

"THOSE PEOPLE! YOU ALL DESTROYED MY SCHOOL!"

"… Well your school IS destroyed, but I have no idea where the Hell you got the idea that I've got wings and weird people were everywhere. You're delusional!"

"… What about my uniform, then? It was all torn up!"

"No, it wasn't. Your mom threw it out, though. Your school's gone, so there's no point in keeping it." Michael watched confusion smear itself on Nema's face.

"… Why the fuck are you here, Michael?"

"Why do you think? I'm homeless! But your parents like me."

"I find that fucking HARD to believe."

"Oh yeah? Then why the Hell am I in YOUR room, sleeping on the floor by YOUR BED? If that's not trust I don't know what is, bitch." Michael's blue-green eyes glared at her before he shut them and rested his head on her mattress. "Go back to sleep! You don't have to go to school!"

Nema disobeyed, jumping out of bed and rushing to her closet. "YOU go ahead and sleep, then! I'm going out!"

"Where the Hell are you gonna go?" Michael growled.

"Harajuku."

"What, you gonna doll yourself up and show off your body? On a TUESDAY? You're a fucking attention whore. Go back to sleep!"

"Michael, I never said YOU had to come along! So YOU fucking sleep!"

"YOU'RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO DO THAT SHIT ON SUNDAYS! EVEN GUYS LIKE ME KNOW THAT!"

"WELL MAYBE I LIKE BEING AN INDIVIDUAL! SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP!"

With that, Michael came to stand and stepped in front of her, his blue-green eyes aflame as he sent her a death glare. "Did you just give ME a fucking ORDER? I'M the only one here giving out ORDERS, woman!"

"WOULD YOU MOVE SO THAT I CAN GET CLOTHES?"

Setsuna's voice could be heard calling out. "THERE ARE PEOPLE HERE STILL TRYING TO SLEEP, YOU TWO!"

Nema grit her teeth. "Michael. Move."

"Michael what?"

"Michael-SAMA. Move. Please."

Finally Michael moved aside, letting her grab her choices of clothing and watching her rush off to the bathroom.

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Setsuna let out a deep yawn as he stepped back into bed with Sara. "Maybe this is a mistake. All they're gonna do is fight all the time."

Sara shrugged sleepily. "He's her Guardian Angel. What can we do?"

"I don't know… All I know is that this place is NOT gonna be peaceful for a long time, now…"

Sara went silent, and Setsuna thought that perhaps she'd fallen asleep already until she spoke again. "… But we do have our pretend anniversary coming up." It was only a pretend anniversary because they could never truly get married.

"… Vacation?"

"Why not?"

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"… This is boring."

"I NEVER SAID YOU HAD TO COME, YOU STALKER!" Nema yelled as she stomped along in knee-high boots, her white dress hanging in asymmetrical layers from as low as mid-calf and as high as mid-thigh. A tight, black corset accentuated her body, and her black, fingerless gloves stretched up and over her elbows. She was tying a white mini-crown accented in black onto her head as she walked.

"So?"

"SO GO DO SOMETHING ELSE! I DON'T WANNA HEAR YOUR SHIT!"

Michael snarled at her. "I THINK I SHOULD COME ALONG JUST TO PISS YOU OFF! We'll call you the angry ghost! That'll get you tourist shots!"

"SHUT UP!" Nema screamed as she got on the bus at the bus station. Michael followed. "… Though I've gotta admit that your getup might get you some shots, too!"

"My 'getup'? This is what I wear every day!"

"If I didn't have a school uniform, I'd wear what I'M wearing every day!" Nema reasoned with him, observing his clothing. She wondered if he had a bag of clothes hiding in her room somewhere. His boots were the same, but now he wore a different pair of black pants. The legs were covered in bondage straps, four of which were used to attach them to the rest of the pants, which would have been a simple pair of black shorts, otherwise. A thick black choker adorned his neck. His biker gloves were still on, but he'd removed this headband, and he was not wearing a shirt at all, showing off his tattoo.

"… WOULD YOU STOP STARING AT ME?" Michael hissed.

"TOUCHY!" Nema rolled her red eyes. "If you don't like the attention, you shouldn't dress that way!"

"I'll dress how I want, bitch!"

Nema got off the bus and Michael, as usual, followed her. "Then don't complain if people stare at you! It comes with the territory."

"Not where I come from." Michael mumbled.

"Eh?"

"I didn't fucking say anything!" He snapped. "Look, we're here now, and it's completely dull, so let's go somewhere cooler!"

"For crying out loud, Michael! WHERE do you suppose we should go, then?"

"Any place we can go and fight?"

"… You're fucking joking! I'm not fighting in this dress! I don't wanna fight you, anyway!"

"You sure? 'Cause you manage to piss me off like you're BEGGIN' for it!"

"DON'T START WITH ME, MICHAEL!"

"IT'S MICHAEL-SAMA, YOU BITCH!"

"I DON'T SEE HOW YOU'RE SO FUCKIN' GREAT, MICHAEL! YOU THINK BECAUSE YOU PUT A TATTOO ON YOUR FACE THAT YOU'RE SOME SORT OF BADASS? I'VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU! YOU'RE NOT!"

"AND PUTTING A FUCKING CROWN THAT'S FIVE SIZES TOO SMALL ON YOUR HEAD HAS THAT EFFECT? YOU'RE A FUCKING IDIOT! SO SHUT UP!"

They both froze as the flash of a camera made them go blind for a moment. "… Oh, keep up the show! It's beautiful!" A balding man pouted. "You're all black and she's all white! With you arguing, it's perfect! Light versus dark! The beautiful versus the rebellious! The Angel versus the Demon!"

Michael and Nema knew they'd come across one of the more psychotic of photographers. After a moment in which neither of them moved, the photographer tossed his brilliant idea aside. "Okay, fine, let's do something more like yin and yang. The darkness in love with the light!"

"I'm not in love with her! I fucking hate her!" Michael exclaimed angrily.

"That's okay, this is photography!" The bald man said giddily. "Now, step up closer to each other."

To Michael's horror, Nema was obeying immediately. Michael stiffened.

"Okay, now, wrap your arms around his neck and you, do the same to her waist."

"Don't fucking touch me!" Michael snarled at Nema as he felt her arms slip around him.

"Would you play along just this once?" Nema snapped, grabbing his arms, wrapping them around her, and putting her arms back where they belonged.

"Yes, are you angry that you've been caught in your forbidden love? YES!" The bald man's insanity was showing itself at full speed as he snapped pictures. "Okay, let's get some sadness. The very idea of the darkness in love with the light; it's depressing, isn't it? Yes, yes!" The photographer didn't know that Nema was the one acting, and Michael was genuinely depressed that he was caught up in this. "Okay, and now a few more! I want HAPPINESS! Closer, you two. Yes, my dear, lean your head onto his chest. Smile!" He snapped the pose three times. "That is ADORABLE! The light openly in love and the darkness wide-eyed with shock! Ah, thank you so much! I thought this only happened on Sundays!"

"Usually, yeah! You got lucky!" Nema smiled at the photographer.

"Indeed I have!"

"Okay, get OFF of me now!" Michael shoved Nema away from him.

"Hey, what's your problem?"

"THIS is my fucking problem!"

"YOU'RE JOKING! THE CAMERA GOT YOU SCARED? YOU AFRAID YOUR SOUL'S STOLEN?" Nema teased angrily.

"NO, I'M NOT FUCKING SCARED! I JUST THINK THIS IS FUCKING STUPID!"

The bald photographer took this as an opportunity for more shots, and after a few of them, he shuffled away.

"YOU'RE ALWAYS SO FUCKING ANGRY, MICHAEL! AND PEOPLE THINK I'VE GOT A BAD TEMPER…! WAIT, TILL THEY ALL MEET YOU!"

"Meet who, Mudou?"

Nema looked over her shoulder to find a large group of girls, all wearing the Shibuya Senior High School uniform. Classmates of Nema's. All of them acquainted with Nema primarily out of their morbid curiosity, and to see what dirty info they could dig up. They claimed to be seeking the truth. What Nema didn't know was that most of the rumors spread about her came right from this group of girls. And so, being oblivious to this, she greeted them. "Ohayo, minna-san! Meet Michael. Try not to piss him off… But trust me, it's hard not to piss him off."

Michael flipped Nema off, but kept a fixed, angry gaze on a central girl. She stood tall and proud, obviously the self-proclaimed leader of the girls.

Michael hated her instantly.

He couldn't explain why. While he knew he disliked a lot of things, this girl had done nothing more than call Nema by her surname, and in Japan, this wasn't any bit disrespectful. Rather, the opposite. And yet, he felt the waves of distrust and loathing run through him. He wanted to hurt her.

The girl bowed out of habitual politeness. "Hey, Mudou, aren't you just flashy-looking today? Where's your uniform?" She spoke snottily.

"… Our school is gone. My mother threw out my uniform." Nema spoke with confusion in her voice.

"So? Where's the school spirit? That's no good, Mudou. You know what everyone's saying."

"… I don't, actually."

"Well, you DID write, 'it was nice seeing you,' on one of the school blackboards on the day of the burning. What are we supposed to think?"

Nema's red eyes blinked rapidly before they narrowed. "You don't honestly believe…"

"What. Are. We. Supposed. To. Think. Mudou?" The girl frowned at her. "And you're not wearing your uniform, either. You WANTED the school to go down."

"YOU THINK I WANTED IT TO GO DOWN BECAUSE I WROTE SOMETHING ON A BLACKBOARD?"

Michael observed what was unfolding, wondering what he could get away with. He knew he couldn't get away with hurting them in any way, but that was the one thing he wanted to do. Not necessarily start a fight. Just do… SOMETHING… to hurt this group of girls. Yes, he decided he didn't like any of them.

"It all adds up, Mudou. Why'd you write it, then? Just wanted to be friendly?"

"I THOUGHT THIS ASSHOLE WAS GONNA KILL ME!" Nema waved a hand at Michael, who grumbled at her, but kept staring at the leader of the girls.

"Are you sure? He looks more like he's your bodyguard, right now."

Nema had turned herself toward the girls as this argument stirred up, but she looked over her shoulder at him. He certainly looked like he wanted to tear the group of girls up. Nema wasn't sure if Michael had even looked at HER with that much anger on his face.

"… Anyway, Mudou. I'm not sure if we… appreciate… your appearance during this time of need. The students are holding a vigil for the people lost. And you… obviously… aren't dressed or in the right position to attend." The leader twirled a lock of dark hair around her finger, clearly proud of it. "Go home. It'll be better for everyone."

Nema stared at the group of girls with wide red eyes, and they stared on with cold faces. She wanted to slap them all and set THEM on fire for thinking she was the one responsible for burning down Shibuya High. All that she could remember of that night, Michael claimed was a dream. If this was so, she could remember NOTHING of the burning! And here they were blaming her, just because she'd been odd enough to write a goodbye on a blackboard!

"… Are you leaving, Mudou?"

Nema bowed as a silent farewell, unable to see the cruel smile on Michael's face as he bowed as well. She turned and stomped off, Michael following.

"… Well, that was easy enough." The leader of the girls said. "Let's go to the vigil now." She turned, and began to leave, and the followers of this girl gasped and called out to her.

She was smoking, and it had nothing to do with cigarettes. The ends of this girl's hair were glowing with tiny flames that traveled at an abnormally slow rate up the dark strands, and the bottoms of her sneakers were melted and gooey against the ground. She screamed and kicked off her sneakers, demanding that the girls put out the flames in her hair.

"MY HAIR! … THAT GIRL RUINED MY HAIR!" She cried. "THAT GIRL REALLY IS A WITCH! THE RUMORS ARE TRUE, AFTER ALL!" It didn't matter that it was she herself that started that childish rumor. It gave her a sick satisfaction to deal another verbal blow to Nema, even if it wasn't to Nema's face.

Nema heard the girl and snapped. She spun around and rushed at her, slamming into her and literally rubbing her face in the ground. "FUCK YOU! I AM NO FUCKING WITCH!"

Michael watched this with an entertained grin on his face. It was the first time Michael actually showed, and felt, support for Nema. But of course, just about anyone would've found the idea of a white pretend-Queen beating up on a schoolgirl to be amusing. None of the followers to the schoolgirl in question were helping her, in spite of her cries for help. Instead, they all ran off, leaving the schoolgirl to her fate.

"Hey, Mika-chan!"

"Okay, you know what Raphael? I told you to fucking STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Michael hissed as he heard the voice if his friend.

Raphael just smiled. "Nema's having fun. I'm surprised you aren't joining in with her."

"It's her fight, not mine."

"How very un-Michael-like of you to say!" Raphael grinned as Michael sneered at him.

"Well excuse me while I go get my Fire Sword and shove it through her head! You know I'll get away with that!"

"You've gotten away with burning down Nema's school…"

The Fire Angel scoffed. "Only 'cause everyone's blaming Nema for it!"

"Yes, I overheard that. A bit unfair, isn't it? That's the last thing she needs right now. Getting blamed for the things she didn't do."

"Not like I'M gonna step up and say anything."

"No, that would be a bit stupid, wouldn't it?" Raphael laughed.

"VERY stupid." The two Archangels fell silent as they watched the schoolgirl make a cheap grab for Nema's hair. Nema copied her and roughly shoved her knee into the girl's back, screaming at her. "… Good Nema stood up for herself, though. The girl she's beating up is a bitch and a half."

"Obviously."

"Hell, I picked up on it before she opened her damn mouth, Raphael! She's got 'bitch' written all over her. I wanted to deck her before she had time to BREATHE in my direction! You feel that, too?"

"… No, actually." The Wind Angel gave Michael a serious, honest glance before letting a small smile cross his lips. "… Oh, Mika-chan's gettin' all protective!"

Michael sent him a death glare. "Oh, you think you're fuckin' CUTE, don't you? What the fuck do you mean, 'gettin' all protective'?"

"It's not something that can be helped, entirely, Michael. It's a Guardian Angel thing. As her protector you are going to be able to sense when something dangerous or even just plain annoying comes Nema's way. That way, you can react faster when you come to her aid. It makes sense, doesn't it? You know, it's really quite sad that I know more about this, and I have never been a Guardian Angel. You, on the other hand, have been one for 16 years and know NOTHING about it. How you've managed to pull that off is completely beyond me –"

"RAPHAEL, SHUT UP!" Michael snapped. Just when Michael had begun thinking that Raphael had learned to stop babbling, Raphael ruined it all!

Nema had decided that she had inflicted enough pain on the schoolgirl and gave her a parting kick in the ribs before stomping away again.

"Hello, Nema!" Raphael greeted.

"Hi." She muttered as she continued walking on.

The two Angels followed her home, Raphael offering a few congenial sentences that Nema answered shortly, darkly. Michael remained aloof and satisfied in that careless state until they reached Nema's house. She marched in and shut the door in Michael's face.

"OKAY, WHAT THE FUCK, NEMA?" Michael screamed at the door.

"Oh, and Mika-chan, some parting words."

"WHAT?"

"First, Nema's depressed right now, can't you see that? And yelling at her like you have been is only making it worse for her."

"What makes you think I care?" Michael snarled.

Raphael blinked. "… Well you really ought to. You're attempting to make her happy and keep her happy. That's your job."

"Well then, what do you SUGGEST I do to get my job DONE so I can forget about her again?"

The Wind Angel sighed. "Well you have it easier because you're in Assiah, living in her house. Treat her like a friend, Michael. Talk to her, console her, give her advice. Let her cry on your shoulder, if she really needs that. In short, do all the things you've NEVER done before."

"… You want me to act like I'm her fucking BOYFRIEND?"

"Did I mention that if you're assigned to protect a total BABE you could get pretty damn lucky?"

"FUCK YOU, RAPHAEL! GO AWAY AND BANG BARBIEL OR SOMETHING!" Michael hissed, fed up with Raphael's light nature.

"I'm just about done! Keep in mind that Cheriour's rounding up more people to send down here. I might drop down now and then in case they try to close in on you again."

"I won't be needing your help." Michael said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you never do. But I get bored, too, you know!" Raphael grinned. "Have fun with Nema, Mika-chan!"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?" The Fire Angel shouted after him. Was it just him, or did unseen forces seem to want to pick on him now that he was spending all his time with a female? He HATED women. He'd said it so many times before… they were all alike, and they only ruined men. Women nearly ruined Raphael. It was Eve, a woman, that ruined Adam. Yes, women were no good. And now he had to spend all his time with one!


	5. Chapter 5

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Five_

By: Brenli

Nema was never a girl who had many friends. A few were sprinkled here and there, but they were usually foreign people from military families, and disappeared as soon as they came around. Any other people were either tossing her scraps of pity, or they were not unlike the group of girls she'd encountered… how long ago was it now?

Nema checked her calendar. A week. Seven days since she'd beaten up the one who called her a witch, and seven days since her parents went on a vacation, traveling through Europe. They planned on staying in England for two months, in particular.

The albino girl sighed and took out a red sharpie, putting an 'X' on the seventh day since their departure. No family and no friends. Unless one counted Michael as a friend. After three days, Nema decided that she might as well call him one. He was more like an enemy than anything else, and yet he was living with her, and refused to leave her alone, much like a desperate friend… or maybe a paranoid bodyguard.

So Nema called him a friend, though a very poor one. He was too loud, even for HER, and too heartless. Indeed, she doubted he had one of these organs. Michael lacked remorse for anything he said or did that was offensive to her, though she did note that if he didn't do anything offensive to her, he was actually halfway decent, though moody. This, however, did not change the fact that he had a tendency to pick on her at the worst moments. He was the salt that poured on her wounds, and he only seemed to spill right when she was bleeding.

It was the last thing she really needed, lately. While she'd always dealt with taunts about her parents, it hit her harder now. Somehow, everyone was extra aware of who she was, and hated her all the more for it. These days, not even the people who made a big show of being bad wanted to be around her. No one wanted her, everyone hated her, blamed her, stared at her… And at the end of a long day of this treatment, her parents would give her that look. That look that screamed, 'We're sorry,' and she wanted to hit them for it. Now that her parents were on vacation, she didn't have to deal with that look, but now she decided she almost missed it.

And what about the men in cloaks? It didn't matter that Michael had told her she'd been dreaming. She saw them often, now. They dealt her the same scornful look as everyone else, but somehow, their eyes made her feel twice as bad, as though God's judgment was hidden within them. Nema had a definite feeling that this had nothing to do with black cloaks becoming the new fashion statement.

She felt alienated and lonely. Thanks to the cloaked men, she even felt hunted. Was she depressed? Hell yes. And she had Michael there to take it that extra step down.

Nema looked over her shoulder at Michael, who had taken over her bed, for the time being. It was one of those quiet times. If they weren't arguing, it was dead silent, and Michael would observe his gigantic sword. Michael didn't know this, but Nema had dared to try touching it once. She went to lift it, and found the whole thing to be hot to the touch. Even if she had been able to handle the heat, she knew it would've been extremely heavy. How did he wield that thing?

Michael was sitting on her bed as though it was his own, idly examining his sword. His blue-green eyes searched for any imperfections along the blade, and a corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smirk. The Fire Angel turned his back to her for a moment, and Nema noticed, for the first time, that Michael had a long, red rat tail to go with his messy strands.

Nema watched the light from her single lamp play along the muscles of his back, and wanted to sigh in pity. It was a shame to have such a jerk encased in such an attractive body. If he were even a bit kinder, Nema wouldn't have minded having him follow her, at all.

"… What the Hell are you looking at?" Michael said gruffly, eyeing her suspiciously.

Nema turned back to face the mirror in her vanity. Staring at his reflection seemed easier than staring right at him. "You have a rat tail. I never noticed that before."

"I have a WHAT?"

She tugged on a lock of hair at the nape of her neck. "A rat tail. Not an actual, you know, rat tail!"

Michael offered a quick, "Hmph!" and left it at that, not caring about his hair, much like how he didn't seem to care about anything. "I'm fucking BORED, Nema!"

An angry frown crossed Nema's face. "Well, I am SO SORRY for not being entertaining enough!"

"Don't be a bitch! I was just saying I'm bored!"

"What makes you think I need to hear about how fucking BORED you are? Go out and do something, then!"

Michael glowered at Nema, wishing it were really that simple. If it were, he wouldn't be here at all. "You're extra bitchy today! Are you PMSing?" He actually enjoyed watching Nema stand up and stomp over to him. A fistfight would've been a great way to get rid of SOME boredom, at least.

"Get OUT of my bed. I'm going to sleep." That was all she said.

Michael gave her a challenging grin. "Make me."

Nema threw up her hands. "What the fuck, Michael?" She strode over to the blankets and pillows on the floor by her bed. Michael's impromptu resting area. She threw aside one blanket, curling up inside and throwing the blanket over her head.

"… That's it? You were PMSing a couple seconds ago! You damn women and your emotional selves…!" The Archangel watched the bundle that was Nema curl even tighter. "What, you crying now?"

"WHAT IF I WAS?" Nema flung herself up onto her bed and screamed, dry eyed. "IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO DO? MAKE ME CRACK? IF WAS BAWLING MY EYES OUT WOULD YOU FUCKING STOP DOING THIS SHIT AND BE A HUMAN BEING FOR ONCE?"

Michael wanted to tell her that he wasn't a human being to begin with, but knew that was taboo. So he smirked and said, "Nope!"

Finally he got what he wanted. Nema pounced on him, slapping him sharply across his dragon-covered cheek and then pounding her fists into his chest. "FUCKING DIE, MICHAEL!"

The Fire Angel grinned and grabbed her by the wrists, pinning her against her bed with one knee cruelly placed against her stomach. "You first, bitch!" Nema was struggling, but Michael decided to use all his strength against hers. "You're so fucking weak, Nema!"

"I DON'T CARE! LET ME GO AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" Nema watched a look cross Michael's face, as though he heard some far-off noise, and he got off Nema's bed. "What?"

"Nothin', just your stupid neighbors complaining. They'll probably get the cops to throw me out or somethin'."

"… I don't hear them."

"That's just 'cause you're stupid." Michael scoffed and flopped down into his mass of blankets and pillows. "You wanna sleep? Go to sleep!"

Nema crawled into her blankets and hid under them, curling into a ball once again. '… A SHAME you have to be such an asshole! A FUCKIN' shame!' She thought angrily, chewing on her bottom lip until she tasted blood. A long time went by in this silence, until Nema could faintly make out his steady breathing. She lowered the blankets away from her head. Yes, he was breathing as though he was in a deep sleep.

So what did Nema do? Throw a pair of pants on to go with her oversized shirt and slip into a pair of sandals. It was hardly anything she'd want to go outside in, but she was desperate for some time alone. She was tired of being suffocated by a man like Michael.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Sweet solitude, at last! Nema felt her lips curl into a satisfied grin as her sandaled feet led her along the path to her destroyed school. She wanted to look at its remains. That would be her own way of letting go of Shibuya Senior High School.

It wasn't a school that treated her well, by any means. However, it did treat her better than others had, and that was all that mattered to her. Now that Shibuya High was gone, where would she go to finish up her schooling? Would the next school be as good as this one had been? Could it perhaps be better? No, that was too hopeful of her.

Here it was, the bits and pieces left of Shibuya High, all surrounded in the yellow caution tape. Nema had only to close her eyes to see it in its previous, more honorable form. And, just as clearly, she could see Michael standing on top, with broad white wings spread. He looked like some sort of Angel with wings like that, though he hardly acted like one. Nema shook her head quickly. That vision made no sense because it wasn't real to begin with…

She could hear the rubble stir before her, and her blood red eyes snapped open. The cloaked figure with blonde hair was standing in the midst of her ruined school, his eyes still hidden by his hair. The cold smile played across his lips.

"… Well, hello."

Nema took a careful step backwards. "… Stay away."

The smile grew wider. "That's not something I can do, I'm afraid. Sorry."

Nema continued to take steps backwards as Cheriour approached her. "What do you want with me?"

"You're a peculiar girl… While we're unsure of whether you are a Rabbit or not, we'd like to take care of anything that seems out of place. You cause us too much confusion." Nema watched his hand reach toward the hilt of his short sword. "If you cooperate I can make this as quick and painless as possible…"

Nema wasn't going to accept any of that. Before Cheriour could touch his sword she rushed toward him and slammed her fist into his stomach, and then moved it up to met the bridge of his nose. She heard his nose snap and quickly tripped him. Then she turned to run, seeing what looked like a wave of cloaked men flow after her from all directions. She hoped that she would be swift enough to simply avoid them all and sprint home. She knew it was a vain hope, but she hoped anyway…

"NEEEEMAAAAAA!" A loud, scornful voice called out. She watched the blade of Michael's sword pierce the wall of cloaks and slice out a way for its owner to go through. Michael's blue-green eyes stared daggers at her, but he turned his attention away from her to face the rest of the former wall, which had quickly scattered. "You're joking! Don't fucking run off!"

What resulted was Michael chasing after what he could, leaving behind him gory, bloody messes. Nema's red eyes fixed on him as he fought on. He was wielding that heavy looking thing like it was nothing! It still amazed Nema. She watched Michael's Cheshire cat grin and the sparkle in his chaotic eyes… yes, they were definitely sparkling. Sparkling with bloodlust. And Nema watched it all, and considered this complete confirmation of Michael's insanity.

Nema felt her blood run cold when she saw him turn his gaze to her. He was charging at her now, but then couldn't afford to as one of the many cloaked men came up behind him with a glimmer of bravery in him. Michael had to swing his arm back and clock him over the head with the flat of his blade, and then, with an almost graceful movement of his wrist, brought the point down and into the cloaked man's head. It was the most disgusting thing Nema had laid eyes on so far, but then she felt rough hands grasp her neck.

Michael had never been intentionally charging at Nema; he had been at the cloaked Angel behind her. Nema choked and sputtered as she came to her knees, her face forced to stare back at the red-headed man as the murder-happy smile left his features and something like a mental debate glimmered in his eyes. Nema could hear less and less as she began to fade out, but she could see Michael mouth what looked like, "Ah, what the Hell." She watched him hold his hand out, and to her astonishment, a bright beam of flames exploded from him and shot just above her head.

Nema gasped for breath as she continued to stare at Michael, who was back to grinning. She dared to look over her shoulder and almost wanted to vomit. The man behind her was burning into ashes at an alarmingly quick rate. It was definitely more disgusting than a head wound due to a sword, but she watched as the man transformed into a pile of ash. The several screams around her told her Michael was giving this treatment to everyone else now.

"Michael-sama!" Cheriour sounded sickeningly calm. "Right when we thought you'd abandoned the girl!"

"I CAN'T fucking abandon the girl!" Michael hissed, sending a beam of fire at Cheriour, but he dodged it. "I told you, she's not a damn Rabbit! So fuck off!"

"Michael-sama, try to see it from our point of view. Did you know there is no real confirmation on this girl's status? She could be anything, really! Wouldn't it be best to just be rid of her, then? And just think, the minute she's gone, you don't have to protect her anymore."

Nema wanted to laugh at first. Michael seemed like more of a threat to her life than a protector of it! But now that she thought about it… it would explain his stalker-like attitude. And if he was keeping men like these away from her, she supposed she could try to deal with his detestable personality.

Michael actually faltered for a moment, and that scared Nema senseless. She was extremely relieved when Michael grinned evilly and shouted, "Fuck your reasoning!" and sent more fire at the tall, shadowy figure.

Cheriour was gone, but he was far from dead. "One day you'll see, Michael-sama! I'll have you fighting FOR me, and not AGAINST me!" He behind the corpses of whatever Angels had followed him this time around. Michael burned them all to ash, no longer caring that Nema saw him do this.

Nema stood among the piles of ash with a grateful smile on her face. The wind suddenly picked up and blew the ash up and away. The wind felt sharp, and she thought she could hear Michael mutter something about Raphael being angry. When the wind died down and the ash cleared off, Michael was less like the annoying brat she hated and just a bit more like a hero.

Of course, it didn't help much that Nema felt a teeny bit physically attracted to him.

"M… Michael…"

An angry look twisted itself onto Michael's face. "YOU." He waved his sword at her. "YOU ARE A PAIN IN MY ASS! DON'T MAKE ME PUT YOU IN A CAGE, 'CAUSE I WILL!"

Nema frowned. "Gomen… And thank you."

"What, so I have to BURN stuff to get your gratitude?" The Fire Angel tsked Nema and walked past her. "We're going home. You're going to bed, and I'm going to make DAMN sure you don't pull another stunt like that again!"

For the first time since they'd met, Nema was walking behind Michael. She wanted to point out that by doing this, it was only easier for her to slip away, but she had a feeling they'd both come to the agreement that Nema wasn't stupid enough to run off again. "…Hey, Michael?"

"Nani?" He responded gruffly.

"… Are you going to fill me in on what's going on?"

Michael was silent for a long while. "… No."

Nema froze in her tracks, and Michael reached back to take hold of her wrist and pull her up closer to him. It seemed that if she were more than two steps away from him, he'd pull her within that boundary. "… Doushite? Why won't you tell me anything?"

"The less you know, the better it is for everyone. That's why."

Nema scowled. "Okay, fine. Then I'll say what I think is going on, and you tell me if I'm right or wrong, okay?"

"Whatever makes you happy, Nemaelle! I can't believe I'm fucking saying this, but I'm actually too tired to give a shit right now!"

"Good!" Nema grinned as she heard him grumble. "So, these weird people… with WINGS… are after me. They obviously want to kill me because they think I'm a bunny, whatever that's supposed to mean-"

"Rabbit. Not BUNNY. Rabbit! You're trying to make it sound like it's cute or somethin'!"

"… Okay, fine. Rabbit. They think I'm a RABBIT and they want to kill me because it's bad. Apparently it's not cute, anyway…"

"Oh, ha ha."

"… And YOU… are here to protect me. So am I right so far?"

"Yes." Michael said grudgingly.

Nema grinned. "AND!"

"…And?"

"And you're not human!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"You can't be! You wield that sword of yours around like it's hollow, but I KNOW that thing is heavy as all Hell… it's hot as all Hell, too!"

Michael stopped in his tracks. "… You touched my sword?"

"So what if I did?" Nema babbled. "Also, you shoot fire out of your hands! Like some sort of friggin' super hero or something! So tell me… was I right when I said you have wings? Have I been right all along?"

"One! DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH MY FUCKING SWORD AGAIN! And two! … I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, are you surrrre?"

"YES, I'M SURE!"

Nema dashed up to walk in front of him, like they usually did. "Oh, well that's disappointing… I guess it makes sense, though. I mean, the wings I saw on you were these big, beautiful, white things! They looked like they might be soft, too! And, well, that's just not you, is it? Those wings would belong to an Angel… you're more like the Devil!"

Nema went wide-eyed as Michael pulled her back against him, the blade of his sword resting at her throat. His breath was hot against her ear. "Listen, bitch! I'm nothing like HIM…! HE was a traitor and a fucking FOOL. I will NEVER be at his level!"

"Jesus, Michael! You talk like you know him!"

Michael shoved her away, but she could feel the point of his sword between her shoulder blades. "Jesus has nothing to do with this. Now shut up and keep walking."

Nema did keep walking and she did shut up until they were home and back in Nema's bedroom. Michael sat himself on her windowsill, becoming a dark silhouette with angry eyes. "Now go to sleep." He commanded her as she kicked off her slippers and crawled into bed.

"You aren't going to sleep?"

"No, I'm watching over your stupid ass!" The Fire Angel snapped. "I hope you've learned your damn lesson, Nema! I'm so fucking close to leaving you to them!"

"I've learned my lesson, okay? Sorry!" Nema grumbled as she threw her blankets over her head again. "So fuckin' pissy about it…! At least things weren't BORING for a while…!"

Michael paused. "… Heh." He smirked. "Yeah, that's true."


	6. Chapter 6

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Six_

By: Brenli

"Well if it isn't Mr. Pervert Doctor! Hi!" Michael smirked at his friend. In all honesty, Michael was a little amazed that Raphael did not come down to visit sooner. A full month had gone by now, and he'd expected some kind of slap on the wrist from Raphael much earlier than this. "Where the Hell have you been?"

Raphael only shrugged. "In Heaven. What kind of question is that?" Michael gave him an annoyed glare and a shrug of his own as the Wind Angel continued. "I've been too busy HEALING people to come down here. I guess I don't need to tell you that it SUCKS that you had to show off your power in front of Nema, do I?"

"Nah, I already knew that." Michael said boredly, using his sword to draw lines against the ground outside Nema's house. "But what the fuck was I SUPPOSED to do? They were gonna choke her to death!"

"Run up and punch the guy's lights out?"

"That gets so old, Raphael!" Michael jabbed at the ground. "… So you've been healing people… Don't tell me you've been healing Cheriour and those assholes…!"

"So long as I don't give an opinion you know I'm obligated to help whoever comes to me asking for it!" Raphael reasoned. "I just use half-assed attempts on them. That's why Cheriour's nose is officially fucked up."

Michael laughed loudly as he thought of Cheriour's healed nose. It was crooked now; nothing terrible, but to Cheriour and his vain self it was mortifying. Ever since Nema had done that to him, he seemed to make even more appearances himself instead of sending out people to kill Nema for him. "Well at least ya do that!"

Raphael smiled and nodded. "But I won't be doing that anymore. I submitted my opinion today."

"You mean you're actually taking PART in this damn 'Kill the I-Children' shit?"

"If you don't they seem to count you as one of the ones in favor of their… removal, as they call it. So I decided to put in my piece. From now on, if anyone comes asking me to heal them, they will be supporters of I-Children or I-Children themselves." Raphael shrugged. "You should put in your opinion, too."

Michael scoffed. "Fuck that…! I'm too busy keeping Nema all safe and cozy and shit!"

"You make it sound like you hate the job, but I know you don't!" Raphael commented. "Just because I haven't been able to come down here doesn't mean I haven't noticed how things have changed. You and Nema have turned it into a GAME. You keep her home all week but every Sunday you turn Harajuku into a nighttime brawling site! You have your fiery fun setting Nema up as a lure and then saving her! Then you both go home and pick fights with each other here until Sunday comes around again! And what do I get? At least 20 patients that very night! Most of them are repeat patients because you reopened their older wounds!" Raphael looked exasperated as he ruffled his blonde hair. "I'm just glad I don't cater to them anymore! I have free time again!"

"Well seein' as you don't cater to them anymore, don't make it sound like it's such a big deal! And it's not like Nema cares. She beats up on them, too!"

"And I'm surprised she hasn't DIED because you LET her beat up on them."

"Well, she HASN'T, so relax!" Michael grumbled. "I always save her before it gets too risky, so who cares? I might as well make things more entertaining while I'm stuck here guarding her!"

"There are more ways to make things entertaining while you're down here; it's just that you're not interested in them." Raphael commented dryly.

The Fire Angel scoffed. "And you say you're not a pervert, anymore! YOU go fuck her if those ideas are on your damn mind!"

"I'm not that interested in doing that with her, and I'm sure she doesn't quite want to do anything like that with me, either."

"What makes you think I want to? What makes you think SHE wants to do that with ME?" Michael snorted. "We'd both be dead before we considered that."

"What I wanna know is, why DON'T you want to do things like that with her?" Raphael gave his fuming friend and teasing smirk. "I think she's the only woman alive that can deal with you for as long as she has! I mean, that has GOT to mean something!"

"What are you saying? That I'm hard to deal with?"

"You make it sound like that's hard to believe! It IS hard to deal with you, Mika-chan!"

"It would be a whole lot easier if you didn't piss me off by using THAT damn nickname!" Michael snapped. "And about Nema. The only reason she deals with me is –"

"Because he's stalking me!"

The two Angels turned their attentions to the closest window. Nema had opened the window and crossed her arms on the windowsill, and she gave them a wide smile as the foam from her shampoo sat on her head. The sounds of a shower were behind her.

"I thought I heard your voices! I figured I'd say hello to you, Raphael! I don't need to say hi to Michael because he's always stalking me and all…"

"Fuck you! I'm not fucking stalking you!" Michael spat at her.

"Right, sorry. You're saving my life, sigh, swoon!" Nema fanned herself off with her hand.

The Fire Angel sneered. "Ain't it just like a woman to faint 'cause she thinks she being treated extra special!"

Nema's red eyes narrowed to glare at him. "What, you think I seriously want to faint because I'm being treated extra special? You know I'd rather gag myself with my shampoo bottle – HEY!" Nema quickly ducked as Michael shot flames through the window. "WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? EVAPORATE ALL THE WATER AWAY?" Her eyes peeked over the edge of the windowsill. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Evaporate all the water into thin air so you can see me better!"

"I CAN'T SEE YOU ANYWAY 'CAUSE OF THE DAMN WINDOWSILL, BITCH!"

"Yes, DAMN this windowsill because you secretly WANT to see me!"

"YOU SHUT UP AND FINISH YOUR SHOWER, YOU FILTHY WHORE!"

"I'm squeaky clean now, Michael-SAMAAAA!" Nema grinned at him.

"Then CLOSE the damn window!"

"I should leave it open just to spite you!" She smiled cruelly, but then quickly ducked as Michael shot more flames at her.

"I DON'T THINK IT'D BE VERY SMART TO SPITE ME, NOW WOULD IT?" Michael snarled at her, completely unsuspecting.

Neither of the two Archangels suspected that what happened next would happen, or at least, that it would happen right then. They had both accepted Nema as an albino girl, a simple albino human, however foolish that might have been.

The window dropping down to shut itself could have been excused with the idea that it had never been properly secured in the first place, and maybe the initial cracking of the glass is something to be expected, too. But why should the window actually explode into several dagger-like shards, all sent directly outward and towards Michael? That wasn't simple chance, at all.

Michael flung himself out of the path of these glassy daggers with eyes was wide as saucers. Raphael's eyes weren't any less larger as he rushed to Nema's shattered window. "Nema?"

Nema's head popped back up, her eyes round and frightened, her shampooed hair flopping down to the side, now. "Y-yes?"

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?" Michael hissed as he, too, ran up to Nema's window, his face peering in and receiving a sharp slap.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I'M STILL NAKED!"

"PUT SOME DAMN CLOTHES ON, THEN!"

Nema quickly wrapped herself up in a red bathrobe. As she did this, the two Angels swiftly entered her house and threw open the door to the bathroom. They were surprised to see that the glass shower door and the bathroom mirror had also exploded, the bits of glass lying all over the floor. Nema, with her bare feet, was still standing in the shower, the water turned off and the shampoo rinsed out of her hair. "… I'm gonna cut myself if I try getting out of here…" She muttered miserably.

Michael's eyes suddenly narrowed and focused on a small pile of something black and wet, sitting at the drain of the shower. He moved off toward Nema's bedroom, leaving Raphael to cautiously step in and carry Nema out. "Michael, what are doing?" He asked, watching the Fire Angel return with a single, black feather in his hand.

"There is a SHITLOAD of these in her bed." Michael held it up for Raphael to see. "I thought it was weird that you were taking ANOTHER shower, Nema…! You were trying to wash feathers off your body!"

"Off my BACK. Just my BACK. It's not like I'm some kind of parrot!" Nema said defensively. "… Is this part of that whole rabbit thing?"

"Why the fuck were you shampooing your hair, then?" Michael ignored her question.

"Because I could! Does that bother you?"

"Okay, wait, wait." Raphael motioned for them to be quiet. "Nema, you KNOW about Rabbits?"

"… Yes… Are you part of that whole thing, too?"

"I'm not a Rabbit, but I'm involved in the mess…" Raphael sighed.

The three of them sat in Nema's living room, Nema feeling like she was a lab specimen under observation. Michael and Raphael were exchanging raspy half-whispers to each other and giving her sidelong glances.

She hated every second of it. It had been a month since she'd really been given this kind of treatment. Her life was far too abnormal for it, now. Nema had kissed those days goodbye, but suddenly, they were back. She wanted to slap them both for looking at her the way they were.

"… Entirely sure?" She heard Raphael ask.

Michael laughed shortly and flicked the black feather in his friend's face. That was his only reply.

"… Nema?" Raphael started slowly.

"Nani?" She snapped.

"… Have you been able to… make things explode like that before?"

"What the Hell kind of question is that? Of course not!"

Raphael got the hint that Nema was feeling annoyed with the way they were suddenly acting around her. "Nema, I'm sorry. We just need to make sure –"

"Make sure of WHAT?"

"Make sure we know whether you are what we think you are!" Michael's blue-green eyes pierced into her.

"Well what do you think I am?" Nema's red eyes clashed with his.

"A damn BITCH for trying to put HOLES in me with glass!"

"… I wasn't TRYING to hurt you."

"BULL SHIT!" The Fire Angel pointed down at her with his sword. "NONE of those shards were directed at Raphael! They all came right at ME!"

"I WASN'T TRYING TO HURT YOU!" Nema screamed, slamming her hands down against the ground she sat on. A vase containing several red roses suddenly exploded, the old water running along the table and down on the carpet, the red rose petals separating from their stems and settling on the water.

"OKAY, STOP IT! STOP IT!" Raphael held his hands arms out to keep them from flying at it each other. He pointed at Michael. "YOU need to stop jumping to conclusions. And YOU…" He pointed at Nema, now, "… need to calm down. It doesn't seem you have this power of yours properly harnessed, yet."

Michael still pointed his sword at her, maintained his hard stare as Nema looked up at the blade sourly. She quickly batted the sword away, ignoring how hot it was against her skin, and the Fire Angel uttered a quiet, "Feh!" and turned his eyes away from her.

"… I know about your Sunday games, Nema." Raphael said soberly. "You both can't play them, anymore. It's too risky, now. They'll definitely want you dead, for sure."

"Want me dead… Who wants me dead?" Nema asked softly. "… What are you both hiding from me? Why can't I know anything?"

"I'm sorry… The less you know, the better. Just trust us."

Nema could feel the stinging of tears against her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Part of her just didn't want Michael to get on her case about being a weak woman… and part of her didn't want to be a weak woman, herself. "… I'm tired of being left in the dark…"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Cleanup's done. I'll be leaving now, 'kay, Nema? Ja ne." Raphael said with a kind smile.

"Ja…" Nema sighed, offering her own smile as she waved. It came out crooked.

"And Michael?" Raphael said in whisper to the Archangel beside him.

"Nani?" Michael said gruffly.

"Don't pick fights anymore. Not with Nema. She might make your head explode or something... so be nice to her."

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU, A SCHOOLTEACHER? 'BE NICE'?"

"Dammit, Michael!" Raphael went outside and motioned for Michael to follow, and he shut the door behind him. "You know, I personally don't care if you wanna treat me and everyone else like they're lower than you, but Nema's different –"

"Why, you wanna bang her?" Michael gave him an angry grin.

"NO! But YOU'RE her Guardian Angel, Michael! And there is so much MORE to that than, 'oh, I saved her ass, now I'm off the hook!' This is a lifetime deal! As long as SHE'S alive, you protect MORE than her life! You protect her peace of mind, too! If you don't do that, you might as well just leave her to Cheriour, because what's the point of living a human life if you're miserable all the time?"

"Well she doesn't seem to actually be a HUMAN, now, does she? And the way you're talking? You sound like you want her BAD!"

"What is WRONG with having some empathy for the girl? How about the way YOU'RE talking? Always accusing me of wanting a piece of her… Are you SURE it isn't YOU that's interested in her?"

"Why the Hell are you turning the tables around? I don't want that bitch!"

"… Okay, you know what? That's not the point. The point is, you need to do your job, okay? You know Kamael? Your servant guy? You know what he's been doing since you've NEVER watched over her?"

"Do I CARE what he does?"

"You ought to. He's RECORDED Nema's life, Michael. In some kind of vain hope that you might stumble on them and watch them, if that would somehow HELP you with your duties." Raphael frowned down at his closest friend. At times like these it was hard to believe that he actually considered Michael to be his best friend, but he did. Even now, it wasn't something he questioned. "… I've seen bits and pieces… There have been so many times she's needed you… and you were never there. That's unfair, Michael. She deserves the same protection as everyone else in Assiah." Michael wasn't saying anything, just staring at his friend with half-angry, half-bored blue-green eyes. It made Raphael's heart sink, so he gave up for now, turning to leave. "… Maybe that's the REAL reason God sent you down here. To make you realize that you're not just the Angel of War. You're the Angel of Protection. That's what war is for. Protection."

"War is for killing! That's ALL it's for! Don't talk like you know my place better than I do!" These were Michael's parting words for Raphael, the two Archangels parted, Michael stomping into Nema's house. "Hey, Nema!" Michael called out. Nema had moved away from her spot next to the table. Grumbling to himself, he continued stomping throughout the house, calling out for her, and yet, she never responded. He saved her bedroom for last, and stepped inside, finding nothing but the usual, and large pile of black feathers sitting on Nema's bed. "… You're FUCKING joking…!" Michael hissed at no one in particular. Nema had run off again!


	7. Chapter 7

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Seven_

By: Brenli

She knew she was being stupid by leaving all by herself. She knew she ran too many risks walking around by herself as the sun set, its rays dying the sky gold, orange, and red.

It's just that Nema didn't care so much, anymore. She'd been beating up those strange cloaked men for a month, now, and this time, she had odd powers, to boot. She wasn't quite as worried as usual.

On top of that, she was sick of Michael. She could only take constant fighting for so long, and that was all he wanted to do. Beat stuff up. It was okay with her, so long as there was more to life than that. But there wasn't anything else. There hadn't been anything else for a full month and she wanted a vacation. Nema sighed. Maybe she really was just like all the other women, then…

"Are you alone this time, or is he hiding in the shadows, ready to pounce and surprise us all?"

Nema was familiar with the voice, by now. Cheriour approached her with his long black cloak and his blonde hair falling over his eyes. It didn't matter how often she saw him, she always felt like he was someone to fear. She remembered feeling the same once before… but that was a long time ago. Now that fear was back. She gave him a weak excuse for a confident smile and told him that he'd have to wait it out, but she wondered if Cheriour was somehow related to the last person to make her feel this frightened inside…

Cheriour flashed his cold smile. "… You are alone."

Nema's red eyes narrowed. "What, you think you're smart?"

"No, I just know how to call a bluff when it happens."

"I never BLUFFED, I just told you to wait it out."

"Oh, but your intentions were to make me think he is nearby. I'm glad he's not."

"Why, you think it'll be easier to try and take me down?" Nema scoffed.

"Who said I would need to try? I've done it before."

Nema arched a brow at him, swallowing the lump in her throat. Several other cloaked men had come out to stand beside Cheriour.

"… We have company." Cheriour regarding the approaching bodies of Michael and Raphael. "I would like to share with you, Nemaelle, a memory."

"I don't like reminiscing…" Nema hissed at him.

"Why? Is it always too painful?" Cheriour gave her another cold smile. "What are your thoughts on Easter?"

Michael could see Nema tense up. No one was making a motion to attack Nema just yet, so Michael held back. He could see Raphael tense up out of the corner of his eye, as well. "What the Hell is going on?" Michael asked the Wind Angel. Raphael didn't say anything.

"… Just… a damn holiday." Nema said weakly, sounding childish and pouty. She could no longer look directly at Cheriour.

"… I have a fun memory about Easter." Cheriour said coldly. "It is… a most delicious memory… involving a little bunny girl. Do you remember these…" He brought out a headband adorned with white rabbit ears and tossed them at Nema's feet. "… my little bunny girl?"

"FUCK YOU!" Nema kicked the rabbit ears back at him, but Cheriour dodged, letting the headband lodge itself into the metal pole of a streetlight.

"My, you've gotten stronger." Cheriour said simply. "It is a delectable memory for me… You don't seem so willing to look back on it fondly."

"I WILL NEVER LOOK BACK ON IT FONDLY!" Nema screamed, snarling at him. "… You… RAPED… me…!"

"So I did… Maybe that makes it all the more scrumptious for me, then." Cheriour smiled again.

Michael blinked rapidly upon hearing the word, 'rape.' Nema had been raped? It was hard to swallow. He looked to Raphael for confirmation, and, to his dismay, Raphael gave Michael a slow nod.

"It's terrible…"

The Fire Angel shot Cheriour a fiery gaze to have it met with an icy one.

"… So, so terrible… that no one… was there to save her."

Both Michael and Nema reacted in an explosion of hate, rushing at Cheriour. The cloaked men around Cheriour immediately pressed forth, and Michael was quick to burn them down. What threw Michael off was that their heads had also exploded… He could only assume that it was Nema's doing.

Cheriour was simply sending out more and more cloaked servants of his, maintaining his cold smile. "… My, the little bunny girl is truly a Rabbit, after all…!"

"SHUT UP! BE FUCKING BRAVE! FIGHT US YOURSELF!" It was Michael, and not Nema, that said this.

"But that isn't fun to me… Oh. Oh my." Cheriour said this coldly as well as he watched a flood of black cloaked men stagger out from their chosen hiding places, cradling their heads until they exploded as well. "… Well it seems Nemaelle's taken my fun right out of it…"

Nema was standing several paces behind Michael and sneering at Cheriour. "Go away…" The cold smile made Nema want to vomit. "GO AWAY!" She screamed.

"Well, she seems to have had enough for today…" Cheriour sighed as though it had all ended too early, and after dodging several slashes on Michael's sword, he left, leaving behind his dead men.

Michael did the usual burning of the bodies. Raphael did the usual blowing away of the ashes. Nema just stood there.

After a moment, Raphael coughed. "Nema?"

She looked over her shoulder at the two Angels. Her mouth was pursed into a tight pout in some kind of attempt at keeping her from frowning, and her red eyes shined with carefully restrained tears and with anger. Her cheeks had gone bright red in shame, but she stared at them both, not knowing what they would say, but knowing she wasn't really prepared for any response from them.

"… Michael will take you home, now." Raphael gave her a small bow and left them.

Michael wanted to stab Raphael for leaving him with Nema like that. What was he supposed to say to her? 'Well bitch, let's go home?' He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't think of anything to say.

"Yeah, it's not so fucking easy to pick a fight, is it, asshole?" Nema hissed, stomping up to him. "Well I don't need your fucking pity! So you can just swallow all of it and keep fucking fighting with me!" She gave him a rough shove, filled with rage, watching Michael stumble back and stay that distance away from her. "I guess I'm just so fucking DISGUSTING now, right? Does it make you sick to know you used to smack this body around? You need to go home and wash it all off of your hands? Fine, let's go!"

She stomped off, leaving Michael to follow her, clenching his fists tightly and trying to restrain himself. He wasn't sure what he was angry at, but he felt it running through his veins. Maybe he was mad at a whole bunch of things all rolled up together…

Nema was still screaming as they hurried home. "… If it's not one thing it's the other! Poor little albino girl, poor little rape victim! Yeah, poor me! … Force feeding me your damn scraps of pity! I don't want 'em! … Just trying to make yourselves feel better by saying you care! I'm not here to make you feel better!"

Michael grit his teeth as he felt himself get closer to the breaking point. Streetlights were popping as Nema passed them.

"… Then there's the assholes like YOU that try and step all over me! Guess it gives you a high, doesn't it, Michael-SAMA! Guess that's the biggest plus to having to sit here and guard me, right? So long as you keep everyone else from hurting me, you can go ahead and treat me like SHIT, and it's justified 'cause you killed people for me!"

"Okay, you know what, Nema?" Michael sped up and blocked her path. "I don't need to hear that shit coming out of your mouth!"

"Is it STILL all about you? Gomen, gomen!" She didn't sound in the least bit sorry. "I'll return to my damn spot and let you pick fights with me 'cause I'm paler than you and weaker than you and shorter than you and just some DAMN woman who CRIES all the time and I guess I have NO REASON to CRY or feel SAD at all!"

"NEMA!" Michael raised his hand and delivered a strong, sharp slap. Nema didn't know that during most of their fights, Michael purposely restrained himself to keep from dishing out any truly serious pain, but this time he wasn't quite so careful. He was sure a blow like that could make most humans fall over… but Nema was no human, was she? She maintained her balance, but her face was forced to the side. She was frozen for that moment, and the only thing moving was the drop of blood that escaped the corner of her mouth. Michael ignored the fact that the next three streetlights had already popped, now, and moved aside the ivory curtain of hair that fell like a shield over her face.

Nema was crying now, the watery drops flowing from closed eyes. Michael felt even more angry, but it was less at her and more at himself, now. Or maybe just the situation in general. Maybe he was simply mad about that. "Oh, what… No… stop that…!" He despised the situation entirely. It didn't feel right to have Nema crying like this, but what could he do to make her stop? What could Michael, fiery and reckless, possibly do? "Nema… Ah, dammit…!"

He propped his sword against the streetlight and embraced her. It was the weirdest thing in the world to him. Sure, he'd hugged things before… It just never… was in an attempt to comfort someone else. Her body tensed up in his arms. Nema obviously didn't find this situation normal, either, but Michael didn't let her go, feeling the wetness of tears on his warm, bare skin. 'This is as FAR as I go, Raphael…!' He thought to himself. He wasn't gonna say anything, at least not then. It would've been too much like Raphael and less like him. He would've had to vomit if he tried SAYING something sweet, too!

Nema was pressed up against him, but she felt like she was far away right now. What was this? Michael being COMFORTING? … That was POSSIBLE? She almost wanted to pull away… but only almost. His skin was warm, warmer than most people's, but it was by no means uncomfortable to her. If she wasn't afraid of the chance that he would decide to verbally lash out at her, she would've liked to melt into this embrace. It would have been a nice mini-vacation. A moment locked into the safe arms of her protector…

She felt his chin rest itself against her head, heard a sigh escape him. It was quiet, but long. Was he bored with holding her, or was that a sigh of sadness? She wanted to believe that he honestly felt bad for her. It would have been pity, she knew that and hated that… but at the same time, she wouldn't have minded seeing that come from HIM. It would've made him feel like more of a guardian than he claimed to be. Nema felt braver and let her arms move up his back, her fingers wrinkling the black fabric of his unbuttoned shirt. It was Michael's turn to tense up, but he still wouldn't let go.

Michael watched a pair of small, black wings stretch from Nema's back. They were small for now… Michael knew that with time they'd become big and broad, strong wings that would label her an Angel, though a Fallen one. A few of the feathers got caught in the wind and were brought away from them. The feathers flew by Raphael, who hadn't completely left yet. The Wind Angel was staring at them with a small, sad smile on his face.

Michael liked to tease him, but he was no fool. Ever since Raphael had recuperated from his fight with Michael, Raphael had made no motions to sleep with anyone, save the few kisses on Barbiel's cheek that he'd let slip around the right people. Raphael had become a better man. Michael opened his mouth to say something, but Raphael shook his head.

Raphael was sad, not because Nema had no interest in him, but because Nema had never been watched over. Nema had been raped. Events like that would have completely justified physical intervention on Michael's part, though most Guardian Angels choose to try and lead their Guarded away from harm or help with coping. And to be raped by an Angel… something like that would have called for immediate intervention. It actually would have been something so simple to stop. It would have saved years of pain and emotional scarring, and it would have been easy to prevent, but Michael had been too lazy to even blink in her general direction. That was what made Raphael sad… it made Michael… not sad, but…

Well… so he was disappointed in himself. It didn't have to be labeled as 'sadness.' Michael was never that emotional.

Raphael was gone, now. Michael was pretty sure he'd left for the rest of the night, now, and Nema was no longer shaking in tears. The Fire Angel loosened his grip and let Nema fall away from him. She was no longer crying, but she did not look any less sad. "… Feel okay?"

Nema rubbed away the blood at the corner of her mouth and shrugged.

"… Let's go home." It was silent the whole way back to Nema's house because Michael didn't know what to say and Nema just didn't care whether or not they spoke. They moved slowly, and the stars were out when they finally got back. Nothing else exploded on the way home or inside the home.

Still they were silent. Nema untied her mini-crown and took off her boots, settling under her blankets dressed as she was. Michael sat on his mass of blankets and rested his back against her mattress, watching her pale hand go through a little box by her alarm clock and pulling out a rosary. It was made of white beads that shined in the moonlight, something exquisitely beautiful. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she twisted it about her fingers and then pulled it out of his line of vision. "… Thought you weren't religious." He said gruffly.

"… I'm not…" Nema's voice sounded tired. She allowed the moment of silence to stretch out as she stared at the white beads wrapped around her white hand before she spoke again. "… Hey, Michael?"

Michael's shoulders stiffened. He'd thought she'd fallen asleep and had taken to examining his sword, again. "… Yeah?"

"… Do wanna know what's weird?"

"… Do I have a choice, or are you gonna tell me, anyway?"

Michael heard Nema laugh softly. "I'm gonna tell you, anyway… When I was little… Mom and Dad were trying to raise me religiously… But it was different… 'Cause they told me that sometimes Heaven is the one that's cruel and Hell isn't as bad as people make it up to be… They told me to believe, but not to be biased, like everyone else."

"Hmm." Michael said, nodding.

"… Mom liked to say that I have a Guardian Angel… That no matter what anyone says, I have just as much a right as the next person to be protected from harm."

"… Hmm." Michael had put his sword under Nema's bed, now.

"I used to take this rosary and pray so BAD that my Angel would make everything okay for me… Even if I didn't have my rosary, if I was in a bind, I'd hope to God that my Angel would make things all right…" Nema could see Michael's jaw line set and firm in the moonlight. "… My Angel never came for me."

Michael couldn't believe he was sitting here listening to this…! He didn't need to hear anything more about how he'd been irresponsible and ruined Nema's life! He got the point, already! WHY was God DOING this to him? "... Yeah?"

"… Yeah. But… if I ever was in trouble for something… I'd wind up calling for my Angel, again. When I was being… raped… I was calling for my Angel… I was calling so BAD…!" Nema voice choked up, and she had to pause. "I don't know why… I keep trying… but I do keep trying."

"… That's good."

"You really think so?"

"If it keeps you going it can't be a bad thing, now can it?"

Nema felt a small smile curl her lips. She let the beads of her rosary twist about her fingers. "… Do you think I have a Guardian Angel, then?"

This was too painful… Michael would rather get something lodged into his chest then have this kind of internal agony! "Feh! I know you have one!"

"… Then why does my Angel never respond to me?"

"I don't know, 'cause he's been a dumbass, I guess!" Michael snapped.

"What makes you think my Angel is a guy?"

Nema watched Michael's head whip around to stare at her with blue-green, annoyed eyes. "Why WOULDN'T he be a guy?"

She blinked at him with wide eyes. "Okay, okay, he's a guy!"

Michael settled turned his head back around to stare at nothing. He felt better staring at nothing than staring at Nema. "… You know what, Nema?"

"Nani?"

"… So you've got a lot of shit in your life… I mean, do you think one of problems with that is that you just take a lot of it in?" Nema was silent, so he continued. "… I mean, I know you're a bitch, but you take a lot of my shit and don't say anything. So are you like that with everyone else?"

"Sometimes…"

"So maybe that's one time too many… I mean, a lot of it's 'cause your parents are related and you're albino. That's not any of their damn business, anyway, you know…! You should…" Michael beat his fist into his palm, "BEAT that into everyone."

The Fire Angel heard Nema let soft laughter escape her. "… Are you saying that I'm not angry enough?"

"Yeah, I guess… What's so funny?" Michael looked over his shoulder at her.

"All my life I've been told that I need to just sit down a chill; I have always been called the Angry Girl." Nema smiled at him. "You are the only person who's ever thought I was too soft."

"You've BEEN soft ever since I came around."

"I haven't had to be as angry. You keep all the trouble away." Nema rolled over, and Michael noticed a feather was stuck to her back. She was still clumsy with her wings, then, not entirely able to control them, and so the feathers didn't always leave with the actual wings. No wonder her bed had been full of them. But he knew she was doing more molting than normal… It meant that she was growing fast. A good sign at a time like this. Michael picked the feather off her back for her. "… Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"… Thank you."

Michael blinked at her. 'Thank me?' He turned and held the black feather against the light of the moon. "… Go to sleep."


	8. Chapter 8

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Eight_

By: Brenli

Nema's red eyes slowly opened and then shut tightly. "Noooooo… the liiiiiiight…" The sun was pouring into her room. Nema was hardly used to this. She always kept her curtains shut tightly and opened them after she awoke. There was only one explanation for this. "Miiiiichael why did you DO that?" She yawned and sat up, feeling the beads of her rosary slip from her fingers. There was no response from the Fire Angel. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and peered over her bed and found that his messy mass of blankets did not contain his body. "… Oh, what the fuck…" Nema muttered miserably as she brushed several black feathers from her back. There were piles of them in her bed again. She supposed it wasn't that disgusting, but it was very annoying, to say the least.

The albino girl stepped out of her bed and left her bedroom, running her fingers through her hair and shaking feathers out of her white strands. She'd worry about picking them up later. "… Hey, Michael?" Where did he go? It's not like he would go very far, after all. Was he in the kitchen?

Nema went to check with a thoughtful frown on her face. The issue of being raped was something only her parents knew about, not that anyone else would have been interested in that kind of knowledge, anyway. But that all changed last night… Michael had been surprisingly quiet after absorbing this secret about her. Not silent, just quiet. Something he was never like. And maybe last night, she'd been so shaken and tired that she gladly accepted that treatment. But if Michael carried on like that, she wouldn't be a happy girl.

But was she really a happy girl, to begin with? Happy with Michael constantly picking fights with her? Not even simple verbal fights, but physical fights. He hardly treated her like she was a girl! And she was happy with that?

Well, maybe she'd gotten used to it. One couldn't spend as much time as she had in her situation and NOT get used it. If one never adapted, one would probably die –

Nema's eyes became red saucers as her head snapped back; preventing what would have been a perfectly lodged steak knife in the head. "WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Good reflexes! I would'a never tried that if you'd remained as weak as you used to be!"

Nema's head very slowly made its turn to the right. Michael was sitting casually on the island placed in the midst of her kitchen, another three steak knives in his hand. "… What… was that… for?"

Michael thought it over and shrugged. "Making the morning lively?"

"By KILLING me?"

"Hey, I haven't killed you, have I?" Michael gave her a cruel grin. "I think you should get used to this, Nema!"

"Get used to you trying to kill me?"

"Yep! I was thinkin' a whole bunch last night. You know how I hate pondering so much, right? Well, I did it anyway. I think that for that, you deserve more knives." Michael flung two more at her, his grin growing wider as Nema ducked down and then jumped up. For a moment she was a tiny white ball in the air, and when she landed in a kneel, her small wings made their appearance. "Your wings didn't come out soon enough, but we'll fix that!"

Nema's eyes were glowing red in annoyance as she glared up at him. "IS THERE A POINT TO THIS? OR ARE YOU JUST OFF YOUR ROCKER?"

"There's a point. So I was thinkin, 'Man, this situation sucks. It just fuckin' sucks.'"

"It's BEEN sucky, Michael! What kind of slow mind do you have? HEY!" Nema shuffled off to the left and then grabbed the flying knife by its handle.

"Good catch! No human could've pulled that off; it was spinning too fast!" Michael said with a psychotic glee in his voice. Until now, Nema had only heard this kind of tone come from him when he was in battle. "Anyway, I was thinkin' about how this situation sucks… And now we can't really run the risk of going anywhere, anymore… So I was thinkin', 'All right, what can I do?' And I decided…"

"… To try and kill me?"

"NO!" Michael hissed. "I decided that, seeing as you've got some REAL potential in that weak little girly body of yours, why not train you?"

"… Train me?"

"You have any better suggestions?"

"HOW ARE WE GONNA TRAIN IN MY HOUSE? WE'RE GONNA BREAK EVERYTHING!"

"Put everything in the attic!"

"We don't HAVE an attic!"

"Basement!"

"… WHY DO YOU WANT TO TRAIN ME?"

"It'll be BORING here if we don't DO something!"

"Well, why can't we just do something less destructive, then?"

Michael looked at her as if the idea was impossible. "And do what? Arrange flowers and gossip? I know YOU'RE a pathetic little girl, but I'm sorry, I'm a MAN!"

Nema flung the steak knife still in her hand at the Fire Angel. It flew a perfectly straight course and tapped the cross earring hanging from his left ear, catching a few of his deep red strands of hair and cutting them. The red strands glowed like rubies in the sunlight as they dropped slowly and settled on his shoulder, the cross swinging above them.

"… Your aim sucks."

"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I REALLY WANTED TO HIT YOU?"

"Then prove me wrong! You know there's another knife behind you, right? It's stuck in the wall."

Nema stomped up to him and sent him a fiery glare, her lips pressed into a pout. Michael met the look with a confident smirk. It wasn't necessarily full of hate right now… in fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

The albino girl sighed, her wings disappearing at random. "… You are so fucking weird."

"Weird? I'm not the one shitting black feathers." He pointed to the small pile of black feathers behind Nema.

"I DIDN'T SHIT THOSE! I'M MOLTING!"

Just then the phone rang, and the two stared at it, then at each other. Somehow they were on the same page and knew they were going to begin a petty fight over who should answer the phone, so they skipped the verbal attacks and grabbed at it.

Nema found herself grinning. So she wasn't happy about having knives thrown at her… but at least Michael wasn't pouring pity all over her. She opened her mouth and made to bite his hands, but then Michael copied her. It was the first time Nema had noticed that he had fangs. Needless to say, she stopped immediately.

Michael smiled victoriously at her, allowing the tips of his fangs to poke from under his top lip. "Moshi moshi, Mudou house." He said gruffly, as though he were so annoyed with being bothered, but Nema could see the happiness in his blue-green eyes. "Hey, Setsuna."

"It's Dad? Let me talk to him!"

"No."

"NANI? DOUSHITE?"

"Because I said so." Michael shooed her away with a wave of his hand. "Go pick up your feathers or something."

Nema pouted. "Oh, so you have something so immensely important to talk to my dad about?"

"Yeah, now go!"

Nema's red eyes flashed in annoyance, and she stooped the pick up the pile of feathers behind her, and then slowly left to retrieve the others.

"Yeah, Setsuna, I've got news for you." Michael maintained a fixed stare on Nema until she turned down the hallway. Michael, however, could still feel her presence. '… Damn eavesdropper.' Michael thought to himself, and switched to an Angelic language. "You still understand this, right?"

"Angelic language? Never forgot a word of it." Setsuna replied in the same tongue.

"Okay, good. It's about Nema."

"… What? What's wrong?"

"Nema is an I-Child, Setsuna. She keeps making stuff explode and she's molting black feathers everywhere. Her powers are hitting her like mad…!"

"… Oh, wau…" Nema's father sighed heavily over the phone. "Just a second, Michael. Sara…!" Setsuna's voice faded from the phone, and after some mumbling, Sara was the one talking to Michael.

"Is she okay? You're making sure she isn't gonna get hurt, right?" The words slurred together in motherly concern.

"WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? OF COURSE I'M MAKING SURE SHE'S NOT GONNA GET HURT! YOU THINK I'D KEEP ON BEING SO FUCKING STUPID AFTER I FIND OUT THAT…"

"… Nani?" Nema's mother asked after the pause lingered for too long.

"… Did you guys know that Nema was raped?"

"… She told you?" Sara sounded like this was unbelievable.

"I was told about it…" Michael answered uneasily. He stared at the wall that separated the living room from the hallway to Nema's bedroom. The Fire Angel could still feel her there, straining to listen, though he doubted Nema could understand him.

"Michael… if you are supposed to be watching over her… why didn't you do anything? … Was it God's plan… or something?"

Michael was talking in a semi-strained voice in this strange language, yet Nema listened from her spot in the hall. She listened in some hope that she would understand SOMEthing… and after a time, it actually came to her. Michael's words transformed from gibberish to, "… dumb. Just dumb… Yeah, I know… Gomen…" Nema was amazed that he actually said he was sorry, but she didn't know what he was sorry for. "I don't feel like explaining myself…! I don't even wanna think about this shit, and you know it! Give the phone back to Setsuna… Hi. Just tell Sara that it's fine. Nema's not gonna get into trouble. I'll watch over her… Not you, too! I said I was fucking sorry! What more do you want? You know, you can't change what fucking happened! So let it go…! You know, Nema doesn't seem very happy about people feeling sorry for her because of shit like this. You know, it's not like she's dead!" Michael paused, listening, and then he sighed. "… Look, whatever, be angry 'cause I guess I don't blame you. But I will watch over Nema. Okay? … No, I won't do that again, okay? What the fuck, Setsuna…? I'm trying to be apologetic and decent and THIS is the gratitude I get for it? … Yes, I am sorry… I know… I know… Yeah, thanks… Yeah, wait a minute. HEY! NEMA!"

Nema paused before making herself visible to Michael. "What?"

"… Phone. Take it." Michael tossed it to her, wearing a scowl.

"Michael, what did you do to make my parents angry?"

The Fire Angel's eyes widened, and when they turned to her, they were burning green. "… What…?"

"You did something… What did you do?"

"… You know what? You've got a phone call! Ask me that shit later!" Michael snarled and suddenly became preoccupied with going through all the knives in the kitchen… Which wasn't exactly a comforting thing to see, but Nema let him entertain himself and spoke to her father. "Hey, dad…! How's England?"

"Hi, sweetheart…! England's great. Your mother bought you stuff from here, just to let you know. How have you been?"

"Michael threw knives at me this morning…" Nema heard the sudden closing of the utensil drawer and Michael's low growl.

"Did you dodge them all?"

Nema blinked a bit at her father's curious question. "… Yes, but-"

"Good! That's what's important. Now make sure you do as Michael says, okay? He's going to work hard to keep you safe."

"… Wait a minute, what? … I just told you that Michael's trying to KILL me, and you want me to OBEY him?"

"… It's complicated. We know what's happening to you, Nema… But Michael's gonna keep you safe, so trust him, okay?"

Nema's mouth dropped open in disbelief as Michael snickered. "… But I heard him…! It sounded like he did something to make you ANGRY, Dad…! I don't get it…!"

"… I know… I know, Nema-Nema. And I'm sorry. But one day you'll understand everything."

"Are you sure?" Nema asked bitterly.

"You've got your father's promise!" Setsuna said confidently. "Now we've gotta go… but we'll call again later!"

"Hai… Aishiteru... Baibai." Nema slowly hung up the phone, trying to shake off her shock. Even her PARENTS were in on this…! She really WAS all alone, here!

"Yeah, what the Hell, Nema? Tryin' to get me in trouble?" Michael sneered at her. "But I can tell by that look on your face that you didn't get very far…! Oof!"

The Fire Angel struggled to maintain his balance as Nema tackled him, but he caught his ankle against the corner of the kitchen island and fell back, taking Nema with him. "I DON'T GET WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON…! MY PARENTS EVEN KNOW THINGS I DON'T! WHY ELSE WOULD THEY TELL ME TO BOW DOWN TO YOU?"

"MAYBE YOUR PARENTS AREN'T ENTIRELY HUMAN! YOU EVER CONSIDER THAT?" Michael pushed her off and proceeded to pin her, speaking in his Angelic language. "So you're in the dark. Who gives a shit? There are people who would KILL to have the protection you're getting!"

Nema glared up at him, allowing him to restrain her arms.

"Yeah, I know you understand the language, Nema. So how much did you hear, you eavesdropper? Shit!"

The albino girl brought her legs up and wrapped them around his shoulders in such a way as to bring him to the ground once she sat up. "I heard enough to know that you did SOMETHING to make them mad… but somehow, they're still on your side! I don't fucking get it! What kind of hold do you have on my parents, huh, Michael? Don't I deserve more info?" She replied in the same language, letting it roll off her tongue proudly.

"What the fuck? GET OFF, GET OFF! I SEE TOO MUCH!"

"Oh what the Hell are you talking about, Michael? You see up my skirt? What's there to see?" Nema threw her modesty out of the window and lifted up her skirt, which had been covering her just fine until now. Michael screamed and shut his eyes against the vision of white bloomers, poofy and leaving quite a bit to the imagination. "I'm wearing bloomers, you fucking idiot! It's not like I'm wearing a thong!"

"Stop it! You fucking whore!" Michael finally broke out of Nema's hold over him and pounced on her. The pair wound up rolling out of the kitchen and into the living room as they fought against each other. "Okay, so, I've decided!"

Nema was struggling against a chokehold that was only serving to restrain her, at this moment. "What?"

"Today's training will be on grappling!"

"I DON'T NEED HELP WITH THAT!"

"Well all you seem to want to do is pounce on me, so that's what we're going to do!"

"You're fucking joking…"

"Nope! Now we can keep fighting right now, or you can give up and I'll let you eat something before we begin."

Nema despised the happy tones in his voice and struggled against him, when she suddenly realized that her energy was almost completely out. She screamed in frustration and saw a nearest window crack. She groaned in agony. She couldn't even make things explode now… "… Okay, fine! I give, I give!"

The Archangel laughed triumphantly and released her, smiling smugly as Nema scuttled into the kitchen and buried herself in her refrigerator.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"… My goodness, if it weren't for the fact that they were both looking so angry, that would've almost looked sexual." Cheriour said coldly from his spot outside the cracked window. A fellow spy was in the tree near him.

"Are you suggesting that the Archangel Michael is interested in having SEXUAL relations with that Rabbit?"

"Oh, I don't know. Michael is not so stupid as to jeopardize his position in Heaven to have a tryst with a lowly creature like that, is he?"

"I don't think so…" The subordinate didn't feel like mentioning the recently learned secret about Cheriour's rape of Nema. He didn't need to. Cheriour decided to explain himself.

"… Now, rape, that's a different matter. Rape isn't making love. Rape is making hate, and therefore, is technically legal, is it not?" Cheriour allowed the frozen smile to appear on his features. "Because the whole point behind banning sexual relations… was to keep Angels from holding their love for each other over their love of God. So if there is no love…"

"… It's okay?"

"You catch on quick, don't you?"

"But you know, Cheriour-sama… If Michael-sama were to do something of that nature, he'd be going against his duties as Guardian Angel."

"… We must set up spies throughout the immediate area. We are going to keep careful watch over this Rabbit… and when we can… we are going to strike." Cheriour maintained a steady gaze through the cracked glass of the window. While Nema busied herself with a quick breakfast, Michael waited with his arms crossed impatiently. Very slowly the face of the Fire Angel turned to stare at Cheriour full on. His blue-green eyes looked held no traces of blue serenity as they offered Cheriour Michael's infamous death glare, a look that half-dared Cheriour to step into the house, and half-warned Cheriour to stay far away from Nema. The cold smile on Cheriour's face simply grew. "Go ahead and act threatening. It doesn't change a thing… Michael-sama…" He bowed in a show of mock-politeness before he left. Michael didn't say a word.


	9. Chapter 9

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Nine_

By: Brenli

"Holy… What HAPPENED?" Raphael blinked the shock from his eyes and entered Nema's house. All of the windows were GONE, leaving empty holes in the walls. When the Wind Angel entered, he was amazed to see that just about anything breakable was nowhere to be found, as well. "… Hey, Michael!"

"In here!"

Raphael followed the sound of Michael's voice to find him in the completely empty living room. All the furniture had been pushed against the walls, but the Fire Angel opted for crouching against the wall without the comfort of a chair or couch.

"… What… did you DO…?"

"You like it?" Michael grinned and waved his biker-gloved hand over the scene. "Lots of room for combat. We had to take all the windows out 'cause Nema broke most of them… Well, I broke one, but whatever."

Raphael's eyes narrowed. "… You've been FIGHTING with her… Didn't I tell you NOT to?"

"What are you, my dad? And besides, how else am I supposed to train her?"

"TRAIN her?"

"You gone deaf? We just finished up today's stuff." Michael's voice was laced with happiness. "She'll be here in a second; she's just getting a drink."

"Ummm…" Sure enough, Nema walked into the living room with two glasses of water. Raphael had to do a double-take. He was too used to seeing Nema in skirts with bloomers and petticoats underneath, topped off with a mini-crown. Now she was wearing a pair of red, cotton shorts… very short shorts… and a black tank top. The only thing remotely like the Nema he was used to seeing was her black boots… she wasn't even wearing a mini-crown, until he noticed that she had a red one picked out and lying by Michael's feet. For the first time since Raphael had met her, her hair was tousled and messy from the hours of training.

"Hey, Raphael…!" She greeted him with a smile, set the two glasses down by her mini-crown, and collapsed against Michael's shoulder, sighing in exhaustion. Michael made a big show of being disgusted and nudged her away, letting her fall against the ground. But Nema only laughed as she lay there, and to the Wind Angel's surprise, Michael was laughing, too. He pulled her up by her shoulder until she was sitting straight, and offered Nema one of the two glasses. Raphael watched Nema take up the drink with a blush that might have been excused as overexertion or general happiness. Michael's smile didn't leave his face until he took up the other glass and gulped half of it down.

Raphael had to stand there in silence to process the image before him. It wasn't adding up, at all.

"So, anyway, Raphael, Nema's still a bit of a WIMP…" Michael grinned and endured the light blows to his upper arm, delivered by a less sensitive Nema, "… But she's got potential to be a fucking GOOD combatant as far as hand-to-hand goes. She puts up a good fight that way."

"I TOLD you I didn't need help with that, Michael! You didn't listen to me!"

"Well seein' as you can't control your exploding powers, what the Hell else can we do? We need to get you a sword, Nema. Till then, good job today, kid." Michael tapped his fist against Nema's cheek, and she endured it with a proud smile and that same perpetual blushing… Raphael read into that look instantly, but it didn't add up! Didn't Nema positively HATE Michael? So why was she looking at him like she…

Wait. Why was MICHAEL going along with it? Why wasn't he pushing her away?

"So what's up, Raphael? You look like your brain is rotting." Michael snickered and finished off his glass of water.

After a long pause, Raphael muttered in their shared Angelic tongue, "I need to talk to you."

"Should I leave, then?" Nema asked in the same language, making Raphael blink rapidly.

"Yeah, that won't work, Raphael. Don't even try." Michael shrugged it off, and tapped Nema's shoulder with his fist. "Leave for now. Don't leave the house or I'll kill you."

"No, you won't." Nema snatched her mini-crown and tied it on before departing.

"Feh…" Michael scowled at her back, but smiled at Raphael. "Well? What do you want?"

"… What WAS all that?"

"What was what?"

"… ALL of it!"

"… Well I don't know… Nema understands Angelic languages now… Just… BECAUSE." Michael shrugged.

"Well actually I halfway expected that to happen to her, eventually…"

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about… her being all smiles."

The Fire Angel shrugged again. "She started to lighten up about two hours into training. I'm not gonna complain! She isn't being all touchy and moody right now!"

Raphael crouched down next to his fellow Archangel, not any less puzzled than he was before. "… You know… I think she's starting to like you."

Michael's eyes seemed to turn a little greener as they shot a glare at Raphael. "You're obsessed with those ideas, you know. It's not healthy."

"Well I think it's pretty damn odd, too, Mika-chan!" He ignored Michael's snarl, "But don't you think… it's becoming obvious?"

"… Yeah, well…" Michael shrugged for the third time, "… I'm like… the ONLY person around her… so whatever."

Raphael nodded, deciding that made a little sense. Not much sense, but hey, maybe Nema liked violent types… which was a little dangerous, but maybe that was her way. They sat there in silence for a moment, Michael tipping over his empty glass and letting it roll past Raphael. "… So are you warming up to her, too?" He couldn't help but ask it with a smirk.

"What the fuck, Raphael? Are you Dr. Love, now?" Michael hissed. "… 'Sides, isn't it a Guardian Angel thing, anyway? Befriending your Guarded, or whatever? So, I guess I can't HELP this shit!"

"What, you can't help liking her?"

"… Not like THAT, you fucking idiot." The Fire Angel grumbled. "I mean, no offense… she's a RABBIT. If I ever WANTED to go ahead and break more rules and take a woman for myself, it's not gonna be a RABBIT…!"

The words made Raphael sigh. How Michael was ever chosen to protect an Improper Child was completely beyond him… "That brings me to the reason why I came here." Raphael pulled from the inner pocket of his coat a group of papers that had been folded over into fourths. He unfolded them, and Michael noticed a list made of extremely small writing. At the top was the simple title, "Rabbit Hunting."

"A list of the Hunters?" Michael asked boredly.

"A list of all Angels, Michael, that's why the writing is so small. This is a record of everyone's standing on the idea of Rabbit Hunting." He let Michael thumb through it quickly. Most of them had said yes. Some had refused. Michael laughed when he found Raphael's response. 'Some of the girls are pretty damn cute, you know…!' It was a response in the negative, but it was in true Raphael fashion. He wondered if Barbiel had hit Raphael for submitting an opinion like that. A few Angels had failed to submit an opinion. Under the column that would have had a printed response, there were question marks, followed by a plus sign. They were being counted as though they wanted the Rabbit Hunting to happen. Michael tossed the list back to Raphael.

"So why'd you bring this here?"

"You didn't look through it closely enough…" Raphael flipped through the pages and then read from it, "Archangel Michael. Powers. Elemental of Fire. Quoted: 'I don't give a shit what you do to them. Kill them all, for all I care.'"

The Fire Angel blinked. "… Oh, I said that to Cheriour when he came down to Assiah the first time."

"You said THAT to HIM? Dammit, Michael! He submitted those words as your opinion!"

"Yeah, I see that."

"… It doesn't bother you that you've just said, 'go ahead and kill my Guarded because I don't care'?"

"Well, when I kill everyone who tries to do anything to Nema, they should figure out where I really stand, now, shouldn't they?"

"You shouldn't have to WORRY about trying to kill people, you know! All you needed to do is put in a fucking opinion stating that you don't want the Rabbit Hunting to happen, and they'll leave you the fuck alone! Along with that, Nema would be automatically safe because she's under your watch!" Raphael was actually swearing, which was a good enough sign of how frustrated he was with Michael.

"Well, go ahead and change my opinion, then!"

"I don't HAVE that power. As it is, once you've submitted one in the positive, they won't let you change. Cheriour is a fucking TYRANT, Michael. And now, you're stuck in this position because you didn't want to get involved in political bullshit! Cheriour's going to label you as a traitor."

"Let him label me, then! I don't care what he thinks!"

"When that happens, Michael, they won't be attacking just for Nema. They'll be after YOUR skin, too!"

The idea only seemed to appeal to Michael as a slow, cruel smile spread itself on his face. "Fine, then. They can bring it. … But all the people who didn't want the Rabbit Hunting to happen are safe?"

"They can't be labeled as traitors, can they? To do that they'd have to suddenly WANT the Rabbit Hunting to happen, and if they did that, there's no one to call them on it and attack them for it. The I-Children have no military system, Michael. They are alone." Michael absorbed this information in silence, so Raphael continued. "… And that means that the only thing traitors of I-Children get is a pat on the back, a sword or a gun, and a Rabbit to hunt."

The Fire Angel was silent for a long time before he moved, reaching out to pick up the tipped over glass. "… So, then… what? You just came here to get pissy?"

"To warn you… and to get pissy, too, I guess." The Wind Angel admitted. "You know you're like a brother to me… But damn, the decisions you make…!"

"… Hmm."

Raphael sighed. "I don't know… I've gotta get going, though. An I-Child came into my office today… He had a bleeding child with him. I don't know HOW he managed to get as far as he did without getting killed. But I need to go tend to the kid's wound."

"Hmm."

Raphael knew this sudden quietness that fell over Michael meant that he was thinking over something. While Raphael knew that the current situation couldn't be changed, he was glad that Michael was at least acknowledging that things had just gotten sticky. There used to be days when Michael wouldn't have thought anything over twice. "… You know, it's not too late to fix things."

The Fire Angel threw on a sneer. "… What?"

"Don't act like a badass. You can't change what's happened… But you can keep it from getting worse. That's what's important, right?"

"… Hmm."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

… _I wonder how long they're gonna keep talking! I'm trying to be good and not eavesdrop, but it gets so damn tempting when it sounds like Raphael is SWEARING at Michael._

Nema wrote in her diary using one of several pens that now had one of her black feathers attached. She figured that she might was well put them to good use. After all, they all looked like perfectly healthy feathers, glossy and black.

_I guess it doesn't really matter how long they continue talking, 'cause after this I'm still gonna be stuck in the house. I'm genuinely hoping that it won't be so shitty around here, anymore. Call me crazy, but Michael is actually an insanely fun guy to be around when we're training. It's weird to watch. I always knew he was a violent guy, but in this kind of "violence" he becomes very kind, very helpful. He smiles, but it's less psychotic. Instead it's pleasant, maybe even gentle… in spite of the fact that he's trying to restrain me in a painful position._

_I know it doesn't make any sense. A person becoming kind while he's tackling you. But I think… it's probably because this is the thing Michael is best at. Even I will admit that he is top notch at teaching other people how to fight. I think he knows that, too, and that's what makes him happy._

… _It makes me sad to wonder if that is the ONLY thing that makes him happy. If it is, no wonder he is so angry all the time. He'd probably feel happiest in the middle of war. He should join the military._

_But you know, if he didn't HAVE to watch over me, and he decided to go ahead and enlist… And I could see him doing that…_

"… I think I'd miss him." Nema penned the words down into her diary and shut it, setting the pen in the spiral binding. She really would miss him, the day he left her, and she was sure that at some point, life was going to become stable again, and he would leave. And she really, truly would miss him. Life was going to be boring without him, even if he got on her nerves more than half the time. Michael made her life chaotic and weird, but at least while he was around, she wasn't so angry. She didn't have to be angry so long as he was right here… She liked that. She liked that a lot.

At that moment the center of her thoughts stomped into her room, slamming the door behind him, though this was really pointless, since there was no one else in the house. He wore a firm frown, his eyes shut tightly as his hand recklessly itched through his hair, exhaling through his nose in a sort of angry sigh. Michael was a true picture of frustration right then. Nema cocked her head to the side.

"… Verbal beating?"

Michael shot her a green glare that served as a confirmation. Nema was lying on her belly, her chin supported by one of her hands as it was still cocked to the side. She was kicking her booted feet up as though she were a giddy, bubbly girly girl. The vision repulsed Michael. What reason did she have to be so chipper, besides secretly drooling over him? HIM? Sometime in the past night Nema must have lost her mind.

Because there was no one in their sane mind that would WANT to want him. That was like signing up for suicide.

Michael had long accepted that as a fact. For the hundreds of years he lived, it had never bothered him before. He always had more important things to do with his time than consider the idea of being wanted. To top it all off, it was a sin to take those kinds of endeavors. Not that Michael really cared about right and wrong… it just made a good excuse.

Michael liked excuses. He made as many of them as humanly possible when he was in situations he didn't like. Excuses like, he's not cut out for that kind of relationship. He had better things to do. It was a sin. She was a Rabbit, anyway. That's right, it didn't matter if the moonlight, streaming through the window without the shields of curtains, made her skin glow, her hair shimmer, and reflected in her blood red eyes, making her look more and more like the otherworldly being the lay dormant in her human mindset. It didn't matter of Michael thought that looked pretty damn cool… or pretty… it didn't matter. She was all white and red, with black wings. Just a Rabbit.

Her boots thumped against the bed as she sat up. "Your eyes look blue…"

Michael's surprisingly blue eyes suddenly went green again. It was just four words… it was enough to make him revert back into the man he knew front and back. So what if his eyes were blue? Maybe they hadn't been a pure blue for hundreds of years… well, who cared? The only person who ever really gave a damn about the color of his eyes was…

'Michael-sama, I wish you wouldn't be so angry. Did you know that when your spirit's calm… your eyes become the most amazing shade of blue?'

… Bal…

"… Michael?"

The Fire Angel threw on his best sneer and began snapping at her. "Who the fuck cares what color my eyes are? Must be a woman thing! Do you sit there and stare at my face all the damn time?"

He watched the moonlight play off her red eyes as they narrowed. "What the fuck? I'm just making a random observation! It was too fucking quiet!"

"That's a fucking woman thing, too…! Always needing so much noise!" He grinned cruelly. This was more like it… There were too many other important things going on to let her stare up at his eyes! He'd put her back in line!

"OKAY, WHAT THE HELL, MICHAEL? You know, not ALL women are alike!"

It was just like Nema to challenge him. That was the first thing he liked about her. She didn't cower before him because to her, he was just another person in her life. Not high above her. "They're not?" He'd have to prove her wrong, now…

"No, they're n-" It felt like all the words Nema had planned to say left in a forced exhalation of breath, the weight of Michael's body crushing her to her bed as he tackled her. It probably wouldn't have been as bad if she was wearing her usual outfits… the skirt and the bloomers would have done a good job of putting space between them. Instead she was stuck in the tiny excuse for an outfit she'd worn for training. While they were training, Nema hadn't thought much of it. But right now, Nema thought about it. She thought about it a lot.

Then Michael had to make it all worse. Michael had to kiss her.

Nema's first reaction was to fight him off. She didn't appreciate the anger flashing in his eyes as he threw his mouth on hers. Really, that's what it felt like. It was too sudden and, especially for a rape victim – not that Michael seemed to be thinking about that – way too rough. So she immediately struggled and cried out, flailing as best she could under Michael's body. All the training told her he sometimes forgot to watch out for the opponent's legs, which she was lucky enough to have as a strong suit, but Michael had carefully pinned hers down first – he'd obviously learned to watch them better, now. She couldn't manage to do much with her arms before Michael grabbed them by her wrists and slammed them down. His strength wasn't in check. It felt like he was CRUSHING her wrists.

"STO-" Nema had only managed to say this much before Michael took advantage of the open mouth and deepened the kiss, reducing her to muffled cries, again. With no other movement available to her, she could only focus on the pressing of lips against hers. It had been so sadistic and forced. Now Michael was slowly calming down. It was by no means soft. It felt very hungry, to her… needy, almost. But why he would kiss her like that was beyond her, especially because they had been arguing seconds before.

As the kiss began to feel like something genuine, the fear left Nema. She decided that though Michael could have found a less violent way to start it, once she'd calmed down, he was actually a very good kisser. Nema suddenly felt too hot. She was sure the temperature of the whole room must have risen… that couldn't be right… with all the windows gone, the room ought to be colder than usual! No, it couldn't be right… even if everything else felt right. All the shock put aside… having Michael kiss her felt very right. It felt very good, and she began to kiss him back, leaning into it…

A pleading mixture of a cry and a sigh rolled from her mouth as he suddenly tore his mouth away from her. Michael glared down at her with a blue-green gaze, his frowning mouth quivering as though he had something important to say. Then those eyes went green and he snarled all these words at her:

"YOU WOMEN ARE ALL ALIKE! You see? All a man needs to do is fucking KISS her and she goes to putty! There doesn't have to be any sort of emotion, any CARING, behind it! If a man wants a woman to shut up, he just has to throw his mouth on hers and she starts acting like she's found the love of her life! FEH! Love! Just an excuse for a woman to spread her legs to a man! And you are no better than THEM, Nemaelle! I don't care if you're a Rabbit… you are just like every other fucking female! Thinking that because I've kissed you, that must mean that I NEED you in my life! Well, you listen up: I WILL NEVER NEED YOU. I WILL NEVER WANT A FUCKING RABBIT LIKE YOU. So you can throw those ideas out of your head, Nema…! THEY WILL NEVER COME TRUE."

Michael watched her wide, scared red eyes as he spoke, and smiled evilly as those red orbs narrowed in anger. It was a pained anger, more than anything else. Michael could feel it echoing between them. It almost felt like her heart was breaking, and the Fire Angel, her Guardian Angel, pasted that cruel smirk on his face. This felt right. That heartbroken hatred emanating from her… now, THAT was normal. How it should be.

Michael shoved himself away from her and stomped out of her room, slamming the door for the second time that day, not giving her the time to say or do anything in response. He didn't stray far. He plopped down in the hallway, right beside the bedroom door, telling himself that he'd somehow made life a bit more like he was used to.

That really weird stabbing feeling going on in his chest? Like in all actuality, he'd done something wrong?

… He wasn't used to that. But he hoped that maybe he'd go numb to it after a while.


	10. Chapter 10

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Ten_

By: Brenli

A 6:00 alarm rang right on schedule, but Nema was already awake. Her red eyes stared moodily at the blaring clock, until she smacked it with her rosary-wrapped hand and silenced it.

Nema hadn't slept much that night. She was too enraged and embarrassed to do so, but when she'd slipped into some kind of slumber, she immediately envisioned Michael's eyes gone blue. Nema kicked off her boots and slipped into a pair of black pants, accented with red, inverted crosses, and then stomped back into her boots. Even as she closed her eyes and pulled her black tank top over her head, she saw those blue eyes. She grumbled and slipped on a white shirt, hating those eyes. Well, she hated the man who owned those eyes.

She opened her bedroom door, and there he was. All slouched against the wall, sleeping. Damn it, how could he sleep so well after what he did? Did he care at all?

Well, that was a dumb question. Nema buried away the answer deep inside her and sneered down at him. She was angrier at herself than at him, suddenly. He treated her like shit, and she found it in herself to be ATTRACTED to him. What was she thinking? Her stupidity was enough to make her cry. Nema didn't understand… just about anything, anymore…

Nema hissed crossly at herself and delivered a sharp kick to Michael's side, watching him snap into alertness and pain, listening to him curse.

"What the Hell, Nema?" Michael immediately grabbed Nema's ankle before she could leave. "I don't need your damn wake up calls if that's what that was!"

Soon they were struggling again. Now they couldn't even last one minute without fighting each other… this was ridiculous. "Get… off of me…" Nema hissed through gritted teeth, pushing him off to the side and proceeding to the kitchen.

Michael wasn't having any of that attitude, for several reasons. For one, he most obviously didn't enjoy getting assaulted in the morning, and for two, Nema didn't even try to fight against his retaliation. That wasn't how it was supposed to work…! She was supposed to fight back! "Well, good fucking morning to you, too, Nema!"

She offered him a blatantly fake smile and snatched an apple from a bowl placed on the island of her kitchen, quickly biting into it.

"… So what the fuck is your problem today, huh?" Michael snarled after a stretch of silence.

"How could you act like you have no idea…?" Nema said coldly, before taking another large bite of the apple.

Michael knew quite well that she was still fuming because of last night's forced kiss, and admittedly… after thinking it over for about an hour, he was willing to admit to himself that his actions MIGHT have been over the top. Not that he was willing to admit this to anyone else. "Feh! Are you still pouting 'cause of a little kiss?" He watched Nema's shoulders stiffen. "You're only proving me even more right, the more you sit there like that…! Makin' a big deal out of it 'cause you thought that I might actually WANT you…"

Nema knew Michael was heartless, but he really took it too far, then. She spun and flung the apple at him, watching it ricochet off the top of his red head. She followed the apple's path to him, and before either of them knew it, they were fighting each other in the cluttered kitchen. They were surrounded by breakable objects, but they managed to shove themselves and kick themselves around without harming anything.

"Starting the training extra early today, are ya?" Michael said with the fake tones of glee in his voice. Really, they were fake. There was no competitive gleam in his opponent's eyes, but the dull emptiness of hatred, and he'd seen this look several times before. Nema honestly wanted to hurt him…! A small part of him believed he should have expected this, but that didn't mean he was going to treat this like a real battle. After all… he didn't REALLY want to hurt her…

But then what did he DO last night?

The sudden revelation made the Fire Angel falter, and Nema, being as bloodthirsty as she was right now, took advantage of it, throwing more weight into her arms as she slapped and shoved him back. "… D-dammit!" Michael swore. This wasn't normal at all…! HE was the one who always won… ESPECIALLY against Nema! ALWAYS him! And now just ONE thought was making him weaker!

His theory was so true… women always made men weaker… It wasn't like Nema had any RIGHT to do this to him…! He wouldn't let her…! That was… that was WHY he did what he did last night! He had to put her back in line… for BOTH their sakes! He hated doing this, but he desperately flung himself forward and struck her twice as hard as he wanted to, watching her fly back across the kitchen, knocking over the bowl on the island.

Nema barely caught herself before she went flying onto the stove, and she felt the waves of pure rage fill her… she felt the wings she owned sprout themselves from her back, but she wasn't able to see that overnight, they'd grown twice as large… and neither was Nema able to see that her eyes had begun to glow in crimson hatred.

There were only two words that could form in Michael's mind.

Oh. Shit.

Nema let out an angry cry and flew at him, grabbing a chair and bringing it down on him. The Archangel's head was safe from any impact, but he'd been caught in the space between the backrest and the seat, and Nema flipped the chair about to bring him down. Nema was practically inhuman as she pinned her trainer down and broke the chair apart, as it had served its purpose and was no longer needed.

"You cheated!" The Fire Angel said, though he knew the protest was pathetic. And Nema replied with what he already knew…

"We aren't training…" Her voice was so low it sounded raspy and inhuman. Michael watched her face contort into one holding back tears, and Michael wanted her to cry. He wanted her to act more like herself. He was beginning to miss her. "I don't wanna be angry… You're not supposed to let me be angry…" Michael could feel himself almost nod, and he still wanted her to cry. But Nema disappointed him, quickly losing her drops of humanity, returning to the low, raspy whisper that… believe it or not… made Michael a little bit scared. "… I'm not stupid. I know what I am, and what the means for me. I know… I know that I am too ugly, and that I am not worth your time. I know that you will never want me… You didn't need to sexually harass me to make me realize that. Because I know… I've always known. Those thoughts of mine… regarding you… I know they won't come true. You didn't have to do that… You didn't have to…" Nema was shaking her head and her fingers were unintentionally digging into the flesh of his chest. "Today… today, I am going to do what I want, because I am angry, and I do NOT want to deal with you…"

'I don't wanna be angry…'

"… And you are going to leave me alone… because even though I've always been angry with… everything… I am mostly angry with you."

'You're not supposed to let me be angry…'

"Nema…"

"Shut up." She said coldly. Michael realized that she was keeping herself in check… She didn't want to get carried away now that she had powers she couldn't control… Nema didn't want to do something she might come to regret. "… I don't care what you do… I don't care if you leave."

"Now you're lying."

"I think I told you to shut up, didn't I?" Nema hissed quietly. "I don't care what you do… just don't do anything… around me." She delivered one more blow: she scratched her fingers into his chest, pleased with the wince that crossed his facial features. And with that she left, picking up another apple which had fallen to the ground, and biting into it.

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"My goodness…! That dear Rabbit is getting stronger by the second…!" Cheriour commented. "… She's even got a great Angel like MICHAEL stunned…! Is he going to move…? Oh, there, he sat up… Would you look at the look on his face? Do you think he is mortified that he lost to an I-Child?"

"Don't you think this spying is getting a little childish if all you're doing is giggling about their squabbles…?" Another Angel approached Cheriour, staring up into one of several screens, for Cheriour had set up a system around Nema's house in order to keep watch over her.

"Well if it isn't Raphael-sama…!" Cheriour's smile lacked emotion. "What are you doing here? … Are you changing your opinion on the Rabbit Hunting?"

"You wish that I would, don't you?" The Wind Angel said boredly. "I'm here to see if there is any way that you would consider changing Michael's listed opinion."

"Not a chance."

"Oh, come on!" Raphael suddenly dropped the bored demeanor and became abnormally moody. "I'm willing to bet you just manipulated him into saying that, anyway…!"

"No, actually… the way I recall it, I did calmly ask him, and he, in his usual manner, replied quite passionately in favor of their removal."

"But if he honestly feels that way, why doesn't he just give up Nema? You KNOW where he really stands."

"And YOU know that once an opinion is put into ink it does not change! Michael-sama was careless enough to say those words, and now he must deal with it! If he would like to become a traitor and lose his head, that's his own affair!" Cheriour said all these words darkly and quickly. It was a rare glimpse into the inner rage of his heart, and Raphael had to pause before saying anything else.

"But traitors of I-Children are welcomed into your game with open arms?"

"But of course. It is not my fault that there are no angry I-Children about who would like to behead them all, and if there were, well then, they may have a go at it." Cheriour's voice had returned to its smooth, cold nature.

"… You are truly heartless, Cheriour."

"And I often think that many Angels have too much heart." The cruel Angel smiled chillingly. "Will you be going down there, soon? Michael-sama seems to need another talking to, now, doesn't he? Still such a child…!" Cheriour laughed silently at his own little joke, but Raphael found nothing funny about it.

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Cheriour's predictions were correct. Raphael approached Nema's house and walked right in. The door was never locked anymore, in spite of the fact that this implied that they were careless about protection. But then, all the windows were gone, too, so it really didn't matter either way, anymore.

The ever so great Archangel Michael was still seated on the ground of the messy kitchen with that classically blank, 'um… okay?' face of his on.

Raphael sometimes wished that the Angels had the right to behave more human… He failed to understand why God persisted in forming such strange laws when more than half the time, they were broken, leaving the Angels who committed the sin to feel immense amounts of shame. To him, it really wasn't fair. All Raphael wanted, personally, as to be able to kiss Barbiel in public. Just a kiss or two! Was that so much to ask? Was God so paranoid that He couldn't trust His own children to continue loving Him, in spite of loving another?

As the Wind Angel watched the Fire Angel blink up at him, he wanted more than ever to delete God's silly rules against relationships. Because by now, Raphael had decided that maybe Michael really SHOULD get together with Nema, even if he was so violent. Maybe it would have done Michael a world of good to actually care for someone. But here they were… Michael pushing her further and further away… and from the looks of things, Nema had finally decided to go ahead and stay back.

Who knows? Maybe if it wasn't such a sin, Michael wouldn't be quite so apt to rejecting her. Maybe.

"… Hi." The Fire Angel said shortly.

And Raphael promptly whapped him on the top of the head. "You sexually HARASSED her? What did you do? Cop a feel?"

"Hey! Fuck off!" Michael swiftly hopped to his feet. "It was just a kiss…! I had to show her that women take those weird affectionate things too seriously, so I did!"

"Or you just really wanted to push her away."

"… Yeah, that too!" Michael said heartily, nodding. "… What? She's gettin' all… mushy! YOU said it yourself! I'm just putting her back in line."

Raphael gave Michael that infamous, bored, secret-concealing look of his. "… You make a terrible Guardian Angel. All you're doing is hurting her to save your own bits of pride! You can't be selfless for one second, can you?"

"ARE YOU PICKIN' A FIGHT, RAPHAEL? STOP ACTING LIKE MY OLDER BROTHER, 'CAUSE YOU'RE NOT!"

"But your real older brother isn't here right now, is he?"

That made Michael falter. Out of all the people he expected to know about his brother, he least expected Raphael to be foolhardy enough to bring him up. Raphael seemed to realize that, too, as he ran a hand through his blonde hair.

"Ah… dammit." The Wind Angel rolled his eyes. "So where is she?"

Michael opened his mouth, but no words left him as he shrugged and pointed into the general direction of her bedroom.

"… You know what a REAL Guardian Angel would do right now?"

"No…"

Raphael shook his head and left. "Stop lying to yourself."

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Nema could hear what sounded like Raphael's voice mixed with Michael's. He was scolding Michael again, she could feel it. Idly she wondered if they were related somehow. They fought like cousins or brothers would…

Then Nema heard the loud stomping of boots approaching her door. "Oh boy…" She mumbled, looking over her shoulder at the door as it flung open.

Michael was gripping on the doorknob and piercing her with his blue-green eyes. "… You been crying?"

Her eyes narrowed and she turned to face him. "Make-up. Girlishness." She said the words coldly and quickly, and returned to the sewing she was doing.

"… Oh." He responded in the same manner. Her eyes were ringed thinly in black and then touched up with red eyeliner, and she had also painted her lips red, to go with it. She looked much like those weird geisha girls Michael had seen now and then, but she somehow managed to make it look natural, not overdone. That was hard feat for anyone, but Nema had that kind of otherworldly beauty to her. It let her pull off impossible things.

'I know that I am too ugly…'

So at first glace, Michael thought that it looked like the redness about her eyes were the result of tearing up. It didn't mean that she looked UGLY, or anything like that. So why he could hear her say that was rather beyond him.

Besides, Michael never said that she looked ugly to begin with. If he ever had, she was taking him too seriously. "You know I just kid around, right?"

Nema's ruby eyes gave him a skeptical gaze. "And you don't know when to stop. You don't even know when to leave me alone."

The Fire Angel scoffed and plopped down at the foot of her bed. "Feh… you don't wanna be left alone. You're just afraid I'm gonna hurt your feelings again."

Nema decided not to respond and continued sewing what looked like a red skirt. She was taking it up at points to create that scalloped effect she liked so much… Wait a minute. Nema MADE all her clothes? "… You know, I thought they had stores you could buy all those kinds of things at."

"… So?" Nema said shortly.

"… I don't know. Just sayin'."

Nema eyed him suspiciously as he lay back casually on her bed, claiming it as his own. Michael was having trouble looking her in the eye. Was he scared, was he sorry? She wanted to believe he was. She wanted to believe that somewhere inside that tough shell of a man there as a real, compassionate being. "… I like sewing. It helps me pass the time."

"Used to have a lot of time on your hands, huh?"

"Yeah… I don't know. I guess it's okay."

"Sure don't sound like it, you know."

"Since when did Michael-sama care?" Nema suddenly blurted out cattishly.

"Who says I care? I'm just sayin' stuff!"

"I don't need you to say stuff to me! Every time you do all you do is make me feel worthless! I don't need that kind of confirmation!"

Nema braced herself for a scream and maybe a slap, and Michael was suddenly inches away from her face, his eyes almost a pure green as they pierced into her. "I'M NOT TRYIN' TO MAKE YOU FEEL FUCKING WORTHLESS, YOU KNOW!"

"Yeah?" Nema glared back boldly. "Well that is ALL you have ever done."

By now, Michael was getting plain SICK of all the blame getting tossed on his shoulders. It felt like just about EVERYTHING was his fault, now. He didn't protect Nema, he doesn't make her feel happy… even now, when he's NOT picking a physical fight, he only managed to make her angry! What was wrong with him?

Since when did he care whether or not he made anyone feel happy, though? When had that begun to matter?

What happened to being a careless, wild War Angel? When did that become so wrong?

Hadn't it always been wrong?

But WHEN did Michael start to CARE about that?

"Are you mad at me, again? Do you need to hit me for it?" Nema set aside her skirt and continued to glare at him openly, bravely. "Go for it, then go away."

That did it. Michael began screaming. "WHAT THE FUCK? YOU THINK ALL I'M CAPABLE OF IS HITTING THINGS? I COULD BE CAPABLE OF MORE! YOU JUST CAN'T SEE IT! YOU JUST DON'T WANT TO BE PATIENT WITH ME! FUCKING BITCH!" Michael swore, spun away and left her. Maybe all he was capable of WAS hitting things. Maybe the idea of being capable of more… whatever "more" was… was a simple pipe dream, optimism he decided to rely on in the secret parts of his mind… the parts more human… the parts that cared…

Maybe he wasn't able to be human. Maybe all he was able to do… was hit something.

The Fire Angel stormed out of Nema's room, out of Nema's house, and into her back yard. He rarely went here. He guessed that no one else did, either, because the grass was a bit overgrown, and leaves littered the ground in spite of the fact that it wasn't the right weather for leaves to fall.

Wind picked some leaves up and blew them past the angry Angel's adolescent frame. Wind. Raphael.

What the Hell had happened to him, these days? Always dropping for the sole purpose of reprimanding him for this action and that one. Never patient with him. Never giving him any opportunities to prove that he had the potential to make sane, logical, maybe even compassionate actions. Not anymore. What happened to him?

Michael released his rage in an angry cry as he rushed forth and began slamming his fists into the rough, scratchy bark of the closest tree. He heard the wood shake and crack and felt showers of leaves crash upon his fiery head as he let loose scream after scream. This was all he able to do. Hit something, whether it be a person or a tree. Hit it and hit it hard, and over and over again. That's all he could do. All anyone had let him do. And they hated it and condemned him for it.

But this is what they wanted. This was all he knew. And even if he wanted to change, no one would be patient for him.

"FUCKING HATE YOU!" He screamed at no one, and delivered a final blow on the tree. Finally he opened his eyes. The tree had lost its bark on one side and had cracked so deeply that it required one more push before it would fall. Blood smears were found on the smooth white wood and all over his knuckles… somehow, it took actually looking at his fists to feel the pain that came with it.

He heard the tree fall over with a crash and looked up to see that Nema had pushed it over. She had taken of her pants and was wearing her finished, red skirt, looking more like the Nema he was used to. The Nema he liked more.

Nema was silent as she watched him glare at her with vivid, green eyes and bloody fists. Dirt and slivers of bark infested his self-inflicted wounds, so, without saying a word, she took hold of his elbow and brought him back inside.

Michael was also silent, save for a winces and restrained groans that escaped his throat as Nema used a clean needle to remove slivers and a hot washcloth to wash off the dirt from his hands. As Nema turned away to gather white bandages, he flexed his throbbing, painful fingers, watching the fresh blood appear as he moved. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a particular picture on Nema's vanity. It was from many years ago… Nema looked to be about 5 or so, and she was perched up high in a tree… the tree Michael had successfully finished off. Beside her was a boy who looked to be about the same age.

"… So who's that?" Michael's voice came out croaky and tired as he spoke to Nema who returned and flipped the picture down and out of his sight.

"Jinho. He was a classmate. Nobody talked to him because he was Korean and couldn't speak much Japanese, so he settled for me."

"You think he didn't really wanna talk to you?"

Nema shrugged silently. "… He carved his initials into the tree before he moved back to Seoul. I haven't heard from him, since."

Michael and Nema both fell silent as she finished wrapping up his hands. Nema didn't really need to say anything else, anyway. "… Sorry about the tree." The Fire Angel said gruffly, not able to meet her gaze as he felt it pierce into him with the feelings of shock and surprise.

Nema didn't have to wonder if he was sorry for anything else. It was written all over his face. "… I can be patient for you if you try harder." Michael looked at her with a scornful look on his face. Nema went ahead and cried. They were silent tears. Honestly, they were the tears she wanted to cry this morning, but she had kept them locked up until now. They mixed with her makeup and flowed down her face dyed a dark red, looking like blood. "… And only if you're patient with me… I can't live up to your expectations… so… I forgive you for being cruel… But only if you forgive me for being weak."

"You're not weak." The Archangel met her questioning glance with as calm a face as possible. "What? I said you're not. So there. You're not."

Her red eyes crinkled and she laughed behind her hand. "Yessir, Michael-sama, what you say goes."

"Damn straight!" Micheal grinned confidently. There… now things were… closer to how they used to be. And even if that meant that Nema was thinking of mushy thoughts involving him… well, fine, then. It wasn't like anything was going to happen, anyway. She acknowledged that, as did he… so it was okay… "… I look like I'm getting ready to box…" He took one tender fist and lightly tapped her cheek with it, the dyed tears transferred onto his bandages and off of her pale face.

"Go box with another tree… I'm in no mood for training."

"… Yeah. Okay."

Nema was half-expecting Michael to whine and continue tapping her face about, but that was all he offered. A passive agreement. She looked up at him and he was nodding, as though he was trying to convince himself that he had responded in the right way, the better way. "Okay." He repeated.

"… Arigatou."

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"… Oh, how boring, Cheriour-sama! All's well again!"

"Shh… actually… this is very interesting."

"But no one is angry or fighting! The rest of this day will be quite dull."

"How low of you to find pleasure in simple fights. We graduate to a higher form of entertainment… the romance."

"Romance? Hah! Michael-sama is not so stupid. You said so yourself."

"Yes, and yet, he is acting plenty stupid right now. Truly amazing that it takes a Rabbit to bring out the human side of the great War Angel… Truly disgusting, as well."

"Won't be long till he isn't much of a War Angel, anymore… and then we will assign a NEW War Angel. Cheriour-sama!"

"You flatter me, but thank you. That would be a delicious position, indeed. And when that happens, I will be the one to cut off the nasty black wings of Nemaelle… and the grand white wings of the former War Angel, Michael-sama!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Eleven_

By: Brenli

"That can't be right…! It's… HER…!"

"Nani? You're lying. It's just another albino girl."

"How many albinos in mini-crowns live in Tokyo?"

"But what's she doing without Mr. I'll-Saw-Your-Head-Off-If-You-Touch-Her?"

"How should I know? Maybe they got into a tiff and she stormed out. You know how she used to do that way back when. Because she is stupid like that."

"… So, what then? Should we kill her?"

"You know we ought to."

"… But don't you remember… those… Sunday night tricks they used to play? How do you know this isn't another one of those?"

"… Eh. I have no idea."

While two Angels whispered between each other, Nema whipped out her cell phone and quickly dialed a number.

"What? You cold or something?" Michael's voice came through sharp yet teasing.

"I've got enough layers from the waist down to be fine!" Nema said in a whisper, twirling her favorite black, scalloped skirt about her trademark knee-high boots.

"I meant your stupid chest…! All you got is that slutty corset thing!"

"It is NOT slutty!" She retorted, looking down at her black, leather corset, accented in grommets. She'd gone for a darker look than usual, dressed head-to-toe black, topping her head with a black mini-crown adorned in spikes, painting her eyes and lips dark as the night sky. "And I'm not cold! I'm bored, you know. Nothing's happening."

"Be patient! There are a couple of 'em."

"Just two?"

"If you don't stop complaining I'LL just go ahead and take 'em out right now!" Michael hissed quietly into his own phone, hiding at the top of the nearest building.

"… Well you're no fun…"

Michael grinned. He expected that kind of response but he couldn't stop himself from laughing quietly. It was cute, but not so cute as to make him hurl. "I'm fun enough. You just gotta wait for your prey."

Nema blew raspberry into the phone.

"Anyway, I'm hanging up on you, now."

"Ohhhh… doushite?"

"'Cause I can! Watch me!" And the sharp, monotonous tone began its song.

"… Fine. Fuck you, too…!" Nema tucked her cell phone safely away under her mini-crown. She thought she could hear a faint snickering, but she couldn't tell if it was Michael's laugh or someone else's. If it was Michael, she wouldn't be too surprised. He thought her mini-crown was the silliest thing off the face of the planet and he wasn't afraid to tell her so, which was to be expected, even if two days ago, Michael had his own little mental breakdown.

Life around him had been strange since then. As swiftly as he seemed to fall into his violent version of despair, he was back to being his loud-mouthed, rowdy self. In spite of this, Nema tried to be as patient at possible. It was a chore, to say the least, but in some small ways it paid off. Michael stopped mouthing off if Nema got too quiet, and now, most of their squabbles were friendly ones. Nothing to be taken seriously… and Nema was fine with that. However, for the first time in Nema's life, she realized that she really wasn't as much of a badass as her peers made her up to be. Michael was at least twice as rebellious. She wanted to show him to everyone who had ever written her off as a delinquent and see what they thought. And while they dealt with him, Nema would do something not so badass-like. Like take a long bath or sleep all day. … Well, sleep really did sound promising, right now…

Nema yawned on that thought, stretching her arms up over her head. "Oh, oops…" She said to herself as she felt the soft feathers of her dark wings tickle her back. Why was it that she just could NOT control the appearances her wings liked to make?

At least the wings had been a successful trigger in making the two hidden Angels charge forth, their own white wings flapping away as they tried taking her both from the front and from the back. But Nema was quick to duck, and her wings flapped up to smack them both alongside their faces, temporarily blinding them with black feathers. When they could finally see again, Nema was above them both, and she promptly kicked at their heads before soaring upwards.

She was flying…! Nema wasn't quite sure how she was pulling it off…! She was tensing her shoulders… in a way… and yet she was controlling a group of muscles very new to her. "Are you two dizzy already? You're a waste of time! I shouldn't have come here!" She grinned evilly down at her opponents, who sneered up at her before joining her in aerial combat. Nema decided that she liked aerial combat much more. It left her legs free to do more kicking, considering that the laws of gravity no longer applied.

"… YOU FUCKING SUCK!"

Nema's red eyes turned down at the vision of Michael, who stood there with his arms held out and a pout on his face that screamed, 'Where's MY fun?' "Gomen!" She called down at him, and cheerfully slammed her fist into the chest of one Angel while the other shook off another blow to the head.

Michael sighed heavily and glared up at Nema and her worthless opponents, but after a time, he felt an involuntary smirk light up his features. Damn the fact that he couldn't fly up there with her…! It had been so long since he'd flown, the envy was eating him up inside. And yet, now that he could only observe, he felt happy. Michael wasn't too sure why. The War Angel in him was happy to see that the training had paid off, as he finally noticed that Nema's movements really had become more fluid and less rushed. And a part of him found it oddly amusing how similar Nema and he just might have been. Michael had always considered her an opposite. In many ways, she was. But watching her grin cruelly as she delivered harsh blows, her eyes sparkling in fresh bloodlust… he could see himself in that.

But there was something more to it. It was in the way her dark skirts swirled about her boots and the way her snowy hair shimmered as it flowed around her in a long, shining, graceful cascade of ivory strands. The way her skin glowed in its haunting pallor and the way her ruby eyes reflected the moon so clearly, even from where he stood. Michael wasn't going to come right out and call her beautiful, or anything like that… but damn. She definitely wasn't ugly. After a while, the fight actually began to look more like a dance on Nema's part, and Michael almost forgot that there were two Angels receiving a severe beating. Maybe they had forgotten they were receiving a severe beating, because suddenly, Nema wasn't even moving anymore. She shut her eyes and then threw her hands over her nose as she sneezed.

"Bless you." Michael said automatically, and the other two Angels, believe it or not, almost said it themselves. It wasn't out of any sort of kindness, sadly… but it had a lot to do with the fact that they were beings from Heaven. It was such a stereotypical common courtesy, it was nothing more than a habit, now, and Michael proved it when his blue-green eyes widened and he yelled, "Hey! Don't fucking sneeze into my gloves! That's fucking sick!" For indeed, Nema had stolen his gloves and worn them for this one night.

It was apparently a very large sneeze, because Nema still faltered, and then the unthinkable happened. Just randomly as her wings appeared, they disappeared, and Nema began her not-so-graceful fall. The two Angels took advantage of this sudden weakness, or they tried to, anyway, until the Wind Angel himself made his last-minute appearance and blocked them off with a gust of his element. As the two Angels had endured enough, they left with bruised egos, deciding that Cheriour did not need to know that they had been kicked around by an I-Child.

Meanwhile, the Fire Angel had been quick to catch Nema, and she landed into his arms perfectly, the two of them showered with the black feathers that did not want to leave with her wings. "Nema, daijoubu?"

Nema's only reply was another loud sneeze.

"Bless you." Michael responded habitually.

"… Domo…" Nema said while she sniffled, arching her pale brows up at him. Even if Michael was trying to be a bit nicer… the idea of him blessing her was just plain freaky.

Raphael was suddenly beside them, and, as usual, he tsked Michael. "… Okay, what did I TELL you about doing this?"

The Fire Angel was quick to defend himself. "Well, we got bored!"

"So? Aren't you training her for whatever odd reason?"

"Well I've gotta put her to the test, don't I?" Michael stated matter-of-factly.

Raphael rolled his eyes. "And she isn't passing if she falls out of the sky!"

"Raphael… YOU came out of the sky…" Nema spoke up as she sniffled, confused both by her sudden cold and by Raphael's miraculous appearance.

The Wind Angel's eyes icy blue eyes widened at the epiphany. Shit! He'd been caught!

"Sounds like you've been hallucinating, Nema! You must be REALLY fucking sick or something!" Michael quickly said, saving Raphael from any further scrutiny, and Raphael decided that, for now, he'd lay off the lecture because Michael had come to the rescue.

"She's ill?" Raphael asked, and as confirmation, Nema sneezed once more.

"Bless you." The two Elemental Angels replied automatically, leaving Nema to give out another shaky, confused, "… Domo…"

"Raphael!" A female voice called out, and in rushed, of all people, Barbiel, her wings flapping in urgency. "Three, now! There are three! You need to come b- Wah!"

Raphael made a big show of embracing Barbiel, his hands slapping at her magnificent white wings. "No wings, no wings!" He whispered harshly. "How are they?" He asked as Barbiel quickly willed her wings away.

"All bleeding. I suspect it was only one, but the other two got wounded coming to you."

"I-Children?"

"All of them."

Raphael sighed and ran a hand through his blonde strands. "Why are they being so brave…?"

"I… Children?"

Michael looked down at Nema with a confused glance that was quickly washed over with the realization that Nema had only heard of Rabbits... she had no idea that a Rabbit WAS an I-Child. "Like you." He responded gruffly, wanting to leave it at that.

"… Rabbits like me?"

That did it. Barbiel's eyes widened and she held a hand over her mouth in shock. "Don't insult yourself, dear!" She cried.

Michael winced at the reaction, but Nema stared on, confused. She had no idea what was so wrong with calling herself a Rabbit. Was this woman who appeared to be closely acquainted with Raphael against Rabbits or something?

Barbiel had nothing against Rabbits at all, but she had a confused look of her own on her face as she stared at Michael carrying Nema. If he held her any tighter, it would have looked as though he were cradling her intimately. A smile slowly began to creep onto her face as she nodded her head slightly at the Fire Angel. "… Hi, Michael-sama."

"Hey." Michael replied brusquely, feeling the suspicious stare of Barbiel's pierce him. Damn it all…! Since when did carrying a girl have to mean something? It must have been a woman thing. He'd ask Nema once they got home.

Raphael could feel the uneasy atmosphere begin to form between Michael and Barbiel, as Nema remained confused, and coughed. "Well… we need to get going, then, Barbiel…"

"WAIT A MINUTE, DOC!" The Fire Angel interrupted Raphael from any parting words. "Do me a favor and cure Nema real quick!"

Raphael sighed in an exasperated manner. "It's a common cold! It's not like her arm's cut off!"

Nema sneezed again, spurring habitual "bless you"s from three Angels, now. "Domo." She said for the third time, quietly.

"Just do it real quick! Flick her nose or whatever!" Michael went on, pleading.

"How's THAT gonna help?" Nema asked. She was ignored.

"If you want me to flick her, I'd have to flick her whole head! Every inch!" Raphael hastily dug through the inner pocket of his coat and took out a small bottle that was filled with a red liquid. "Here!" He tossed the bottle to Michael, letting it land in Nema's lap as Michael held her. "Drink it, I'm leaving!" And with that, he took Barbiel by her hand and rushed off with her.

"Well, you heard him!" Michael said to Nema. "Drink up!"

"… Lovely bottle…" Nema said, admiring the crystalline bottle before taking the top off and sipping at the contents. It was cool against her throat, and sweet, reminding her mildly of fresh persimmons and sugar. "… Wau… this tastes good…!" Nema heartily drank the rest of the bottle. "Not a bit like medicine!"

The Fire Angel snickered. "… Raphael is cool like that." He had no other excuse. He never understood why medicine on Assiah was so horrible to the taste, anyway. When he'd asked Raphael about it, the Wind Angel had shrugged and said, "They're not smart enough to make medicine more worthwhile."

"I didn't know Raphael was a doctor…"

"Yeah, he's a damn good one, too." Nema had no idea just how good of a doctor he was, and unfortunately, Michael couldn't go into it. It disappointed him, though he'd never admit it. As days went on, he wanted more and more badly to explain who Raphael and he really were… even if that meant Nema would know that it was Michael himself that had failed to come to her aid… all those times she needed him.

Nema's body stiffened in his arms as she yawned, and it suddenly occurred to Michael that he was STILL holding her. … That was a long time to be holding a girl! No wonder Barbiel was giving him weird looks! He quickly released her, muttering in his usual manner, "Let's go."

But as soon as the words left his mouth, Nema's legs gave out and she nearly face planted.

"Kuso!" They both swore, and Michael added, "Daijoubu?"

"What kind of question is that? My legs aren't working anymore!" Nema snapped.

And as quickly as this dilemma arose, Raphael returned, out of breath. "Oh, and don't – Oh. Fuck."

Michael's eyes seemed to glow in green anger as he glared at the Wind Angel. "Don't WHAT, you fuker?"

"… Don't drink the WHOLE bottle… it makes you…loopy. A bit… intoxicated."

"And NUMB?"

"… Sometimes."

"… What the fuck, Raphael?"

Raphael held up his hands in a helpless manner. "She'll be FINE. She just needs some sleep.

Michael grumbled as he scooped Nema back into his arms once more. "Nevermind what I said about you being a good doctor. You're a SHITTY ONE!"

"I have DYING people to look after! Nema's only sick!" Raphael sighed and held out his arms, rolling his blue eyes. "You know, if you're really SO pissed, I'll carry her home."

"Nah, I got her."

Raphael had to do a double-take at that. He almost wanted to ask Michael to repeat himself. It didn't feel like so long ago… Michael would have cringed at the idea of touching Nema unless it was to shove her around! What was THIS? "… O… Okay, then." He said quickly as he witnessed Michael's scowl begin to curve onto his features again, and left.

The Fire Angel sneered as his friend departed. He knew what he was thinking… just like Barbiel…! They were probably going to giggle about it privately, between themselves… well, fine then! They could go ahead and do that! Michael had to get Nema home before he considered hurting them for it! "Hey, Nema, you awake?"

Already the medicine was working its magic on her. She could barely keep her eyes open and her head was hung, the white strands of her hair falling over her face. "… Yeah…" she said weakly.

Michael rolled his blue-green eyes and began the walk to Nema's house. He walked as briskly as he could without discomforting Nema, hoping to avoid any passersby. Who knew what other people would decide to gawk at him?

"… So…" Nema said through a yawn, "… That one girl…"

"Who, Barbiel? Raphael's assistant." Michael fought the urge to call her Raphael's lover.

"She said I insulted myself… How?"

The Fire Angel paused and said grudgingly, wishing that Nema hadn't brought this up. "… You called yourself a Rabbit. It's… insulting."

"It is? But YOU call me that."

'Dammit, don't do this!' Michael wanted to scream at her. But instead he said, "… Yeah, well, to me it's not a big deal…"

"… But it's an insult."

"Yeah well I don't MEAN it that way!" Michael snapped. "Stop being so fucking –"

"Sensitive." Nema said quietly.

"Yeah…!"

The pause following Michael's short explosion, countered with Nema's quiet completion of his thoughts, rubbed the Fire Angel the wrong way. So he'd always called Nema a Rabbit. He hadn't meant anything bad by it… He hadn't! It was just a nickname to him, a pet name for the only girl who'd ever been around him for this long. Wasn't he ALLOWED to actually count her as… well… a friend? So he'd chosen the word Rabbit. It didn't HAVE to be an insult…! That was society's fault, and damn society to Hell for being so fucking strict and hard on him!

"But…" Nema's quiet voice floated up to him. It sounded slightly slurred, and sad, and he hated it. "You know I like you… It hurts when people insult me… but when you do it… it hurts twice as bad. 'Cause I want you to care about me, you know…"

"… You need to get those thoughts out of your head." She really did need to…! Those ideas of hers… crazy, lovesick ideas she formed because he was her protector… she had no idea how dangerous those ideas were! Michael looked down and Nema was staring up at him with sleepy red eyes. A blush spread itself across her nose and over her cheeks. She looked genuinely drunk, yet sad, as she failed to blink up at Michael.

"… So, I wanna know… If I dyed my hair, would you date me? Like, red like yours?"

"No! That would be fucking creepy, Nema! Stop sayin' shit like that!" Michael snapped at her. He shuddered as Nema's head fell onto his shoulder, her lips almost brushing across the delicate skin of his neck. "… If I wasn't a Rabbit… would you care for me… like I want you to…?" Her breath tickled his neck, and he shuddered again, finding the reason why to be repulsive… only because it embarrassed him, though he would never admit this to anyone.

The breathing continued, but it was slow and deep. Nema had slipped into slumber. At last Michael was a mere block away from Nema's house, and he slowed his pace. "… It's… it's not because you are an I-Child… You could be… the highest ranking Angel, and it would still be a sin to…" Michael immediately cut off his words. What was he saying? Just the truth, it would be a sin if he ever… Well, it would never happen, anyway, so what was he being all flustered about? He was just saying the truth… the rotten truth… Well, he personally didn't care… that much… Only a little bit.

Well, if he wanted to go ahead and be with Nema, you know, he ought to be allowed to. Damn God and His stupid rules…! Restricting him… not that he cared…! Michael didn't care… Because he was Michael. Michael the fearless, the ruthless. Michael who cast his 'evil' brother out of Heaven. Michael who needed no woman.

Michael laid Nema down on her bed and began untying her left boot. Nope, Michael didn't care about those kinds of restrictions…! Well, maybe he did, but only because he didn't want to be restricted at all, right? Right… Michael didn't have any interest in Nema… Michael believed in this as fiercely as his fiery heart would let him… Except for one thing.

Michael liked to lie to himself.

Lying to himself helped preserve the wild, violent parts of him… but it killed off… other parts of him. Made him less whole… and not himself, anymore. So maybe he was violent. And loud. And crazy. And he loved it. But wouldn't anyone let him get away with having a heart, too? He did have one… Wouldn't they let him keep it beating…?

Why was Nema the only one?

The Fire Angel felt the pressure building up in his chest, and he fought so hard to keep it down. He didn't need to think about this, anymore. He could just lock it away. He could dwell on it later… when the Rabbit Hunting was done. Sure, he could. Why not dwell on it then? It wouldn't do to come to a conclusion now, anyway… What could he do, anyway…? If he came to the conclusion that crept up behind him… what would he do? Nothing? And let Nema lie there… crying inside… feeling ugly… and not worth anyone's care?

He remembered when nothing like that mattered to him… What happened? What…

"Nema…! Hey, Nema…!" Michael grabbed at her hands.

Her pale fingers clutched at his. "… Go away…"

"No, I need to say something…!" Michael fished through her box and quickly took out her favorite white rosary, and wrapped it around her hands, his hands clasped over hers.

"… Can't it wait…?" Nema said weakly.

"No!" Michael cried. "You wanna know somethin'?"

"… Sure."

"Your rosary is more special than you think. I've noticed it before… the cross on your rosary… do you know what it's made of?"

"… Crystal?"

"Half right… Your parents only tell you half of the truth… It's Angel Crystal."

"… Are you just fucking with me because I'm out of it?"

"No, no…! It's real… a good, strong crystal… a sacred stone. Close your eyes with me… We're gonna make a holy promise."

Nema laughed. "… A holy what?"

"You think this is hokey, don't you? Well, I don't care! I need to say this!" Nema's eyes were already closed. Michael was almost afraid she'd fallen back to sleep, but he went along anyway. "… I know that I cause you nothing but trouble. All it ever feels like I do is hurt you. Right? But I'll become a better person if you let me…! And I want God to hear it, too, so you know that I am dead serious… I want God to hear my holy promise…! Nema…" Michael quickly shook her hands and felt her fingers grip his again. "If I ever hurt you… If I ever say or do ANYTHING at all, to hurt you… I want you to tell me that it hurts. Can you do that? Can you say that for me?"

"… It hurts?" Nema said in a groggy mumble.

"And when you say it, I'll stop. It's just two words…! It's easy… and I swear no matter what it is, I'll stop… On God's holy rosary, I swear it…! On God's holy rosary, I seal it…" Michael staggered at the end… what he didn't say was that the game of 'holy promises' was a childhood… game. It might or might not have worked. But back when his peers were children, it was fun to believe that it held some significance. And even if it was just a game, Michael thought it might help… he was willing to try anything… that would make everything better… that would make Nema stop hurting… Because…

Fine, dammit. He cared.

Michael finished off the holy promise with a kiss on the Angel Crystal cross, and he pulled her rosary away from her milky fingers as he put it away. There. It was done. And Michael laid his head down on the edge of Nema's mattress staring at her sleepy face as she drifted into a deeper slumber, where her dreams could run free, no matter how wild.

"... Did you hear it, God…? Is this what You want…? Will You leave me alone now? Because You know I can't… give her what she really wants…"


	12. Chapter 12

Authoress Note: I know I've been terrible with offering translations to any of the Japanese I use in the story…Bad me! Slaps herself I offer two today… even though they're not for any Japanese words. It's for Korean words. Are you ready, kids?

Angyounghaseyo Hello.

That's a lot of letters for such a small greeting, isn't it? And one more.

Oppa: A way of acknowledging another like an older brother, both literally and figuratively (like, a close male friend). Example: Lucifer-oppa. Think of it like "-kun" in Japanese, however, you have the option of just saying "oppa," without the given name. Girls use this for actual older brothers, good male friends, or for boyfriends.

And I'd also like to warn you that, at least in my opinion, this chapter is spoiler-heavy… well, the whole story is spoiler-heavy, considering it's like an epilogue/sequel to "Angel Sanctuary"… but whatever. If you get confused, you are totally allowed to email me!

Now that all that's done with… on with the show!

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twelve_

By: Brenli

"Holy promise… Hokey…? I don't care! … Cause you thing but trouble… Better person if you let me! …If I ever hurt you… Tell me that it hurts… Say that for me? I'll stop… I swear it. On God's holy rosary, I…"

Nema kept flowing in and out of sleep. That was all she remembered hearing him say… in that… strange, pleading tone. It was strange on him, anyway… Had she been dreaming it all? It wasn't like him. It wasn't like Michael.

She slowly crawled out of her bed and dug her toes into the messy mass of blankets Michael had left behind. He'd shut off her alarm clock… it was 9:00 A.M. On a torn piece of paper he'd scrawled, "Your alarm clock sucks and you probably have a hangover. Sleep it off or I'll kill you."

Well, she didn't feel hung over at all, so she tore his note in half and let the pieces float down onto his pillow. Idly, she wondered where he was hiding, and she shed her clothes and stared into the depths of her closet.

Nema toyed with the fabric of one of her dresses. More than half of her closet was devoted to her Sunday Harajuku outfits. Lolita skirts and petticoats that all fell at the mid-calf – her favorite length. Tank tops and formal dresses she dolled up with corsets and chains, and her winter uniform, not needed now that her school was gone.

Her red eyes blinked up at the top shelf, which bore her favorite accessory: her vast amount of mini-crowns. The shrunken versions of the Old English crown of royalty all sat in two neat rows, and there was an empty spot for the crown she'd worn yesterday. As she laid that mini-crown back in its spot, she wondered what she wanted to wear. She wondered what Michael would have liked her to wear.

She knew with certainty that her silly pipe dreams about Michael were never going to materialize… and she wished that this knowledge would shut off her stupid little girly heart… but it didn't. And so her hand found itself gripping her pair of black, cross-accented pants, slipping them onto her pale legs. She felt weird as she buttoned them up. As if this was a silent confirmation of her submission… and sliding that last button through its hole seemed painful. It was pathetic, really. Would a pair of pants make her normal? Not a Rabbit anymore, just a girl? Would it make everything better? She knew it wouldn't. She did it, anyway.

After slipping on a black tank top, she washed off the makeup she'd worn yesterday, feeling disgusted that she'd left it on and let it smear all over her face as she rolled in her sleep. She ran a brush recklessly through her ivory hair and then began a search for Michael. Where would she be if she were a wild short man with an appreciation for death and sharp things? She checked the kitchen first. Nope. And he wasn't in the living room as she passed it. Her bare feet padded around in a small circle. She looked up. No, he wasn't finding some weird way to drop down from the ceiling and attack her.

It was then that Nema picked up sawing sounds from outside. As she approached the door leading to her backyard, the scent of freshly cut wood tickled her nose and nearly made her sneeze. She opened the door, and sure enough, Michael was outside. He looked quite comical, using his gigantic sword to saw away the jagged chunks of wood to form a more appealing stump out of the remnants of Nema's tree. She stifled a laugh behind her pale hand and asked, "What the Hell are you doing?"

The Archangel turned his fiery head and began to say, "What does it look l-" He paused. His blue-green eyes narrowed. "… What the fuck are you wearing?"

Nema arched her brow in confusion and pointed at her hips. "… Pants? You've seen these before."

"You don't want to wear them."

"… What?"

Nema didn't think he could tell, did she? But to Michael it was obvious. The last time she had worn them she wasn't walking around like her legs were frozen. Now she was. "Go change."

An annoyed frown crossed her face. "I don't WANT to fucking change, Michael! Don't order me around! Hey!" Michael had come up and pressed the sharp point of his sword against her belly, forcing her back into the house.

"Wear something you WANT to wear. Idiot."

Nema sneered at him, turned around and stomped back into her room, shedding off her clothes angrily. Since when did he think he could read her so well? If she put on one of her pretty dresses, would he somehow magically like her more? "… Grow up." She scolded herself as she threw herself into the various fabrics and fished out her white, multi-layered dress. Nema let the soft white cloth flow over her body and soak up a childish tear. "Pathetic girl." She hunted for a pair of knee-high, white boots… She stomped into them angrily and then dug out a white, vinyl corset. She tied it on too tight at first, making her cry out. She loosened it. She fished out a white mini-crown and tied it on hastily, letting it sit cocked off to the left, like she usually did. There. Head to toe white and girly. Like how he probably saw her. "Ugly girl." She hissed at herself, and stomped out to greet him again. "Do I receive your seal of approval NOW, Michael-SAMAAA?" She said cattily. "Here." She tore off his biker gloves and tossed them at him.

Michael caught them and approached her, his blue-green eyes peering down at her with that perpetual, angered gaze of his. "So what the fuck did I do this time, Angry Girl?"

The irritation left Nema's face as her ruby eyes turned away from him. "… I don't know."

The doorbell suddenly rang, making them both look at the door with semi-surprised faces. No one rang the doorbell… no one really visited anymore. "… When you figure it out, tell me." Michael said plainly and moved to answer the door.

"Why, you gonna stop?" Nema said bitterly as she took a few steps into her backyard.

"I promised, didn't I?"

Nema looked over her shoulder with wide red eyes but Michael was already gone. So she hadn't been dreaming or delusional. He'd really made a holy promise… whatever a holy promise was, exactly. She sat on the smoother stump of her tree after tossing the stray bits of wood behind the backyard shed, and sighed, trying to shake her emotions out of her head. They weren't doing anything for her. Just giving her false hopes and turning her into a weak little girl, just like the kind Michael hated, anyway. How brutal… He hated weak women but, every now and then, he'd do something like making a holy promise and she'd act foolish. Then he'd turn her away and she'd become bitter until he did some other random, unexpected thing. A vicious cycle. She hated it.

"What the fuck? Don't make yourself at home! You stay at the door!" She could hear Michael snapping at this surprise visitor. Who could it be? Not someone Michael knew, she assumed. Or maybe someone Michael hated. The Fire Angel appeared before Nema with bright green eyes glowering down at her. "You have a visitor – I TOLD YOU TO STAY AT THE DOOR!"

"What are you making a big fuss over?" Nema stood and marched up to him, her brows arched in confusion. Michael pointed rudely over his shoulder and she saw, standing behind him, a suave looking man who was around her age, maybe two years older. He looked formally dressed with his black slacks and his black coat perfectly tailored to fit his body. He wore a top hat and carried a cane, and tied his dark locks back in a low ponytail. He was the very essence of a dandy goth. He was no one Nema knew, though she thought he looked like he waltzed right out of the pages of a Gothic and Lolita Bible.

And then he spoke. "Angyounghaseyo, Nemaelle."

Her eyes widened. "… Jinho?"

Michael watched the features on this visitor light up in gratitude. "You remember me!" He spoke in slightly accented Japanese, but he spoke softly and politely. Michael wanted to vomit.

"Why wouldn't I?" Nema said with a small, pleasant smile, her snowy hand waving over to the tree stump behind her. "We had this tree… stump."

Jinho nodded and stroked his chin. "Yes… what happened to it?"

Michael attempted jumping in. "I-"

"It was dying." Nema lied smoothly, covering Michael's boast. "My parents gave it a mercy killing."

Jinho shook his head. "Quite a pity. Oh, let me give you a proper greeting…!" And with that he took Nema's pale hand in his tan one and pressed a kiss on the back of it. The Fire Angel sneered and bit his tongue as he watched Jinho linger and pat her hand like a dear old friend. Acting so debonair… and civilized…. and kind… and completely unlike Michael. The Archangel felt like he was staring at his polar opposite. He wanted to kill him.

"I'm afraid I'll be leaving for Sh- Seoul tomorrow." The perfect Jinho stumbled just once. Nema jumped when Michael snatched her hand and appeared to be searching for something, but then he let her go and continued to stare down Jinho. "… However, I couldn't leave Tokyo without stopping by to see an old friend." He finished softly.

Nema's eyes widened and then narrowed as Jinho said the last two words. "Some friend you've been! You never contacted me after you moved!"

"And perhaps that is why our poor tree died. My apologies."

Again, Michael snatched Nema's hand, this time to pull her back and hiss into her ear, "Why are you lying about the –"

"Normal people can't knock trees out!" She whispered back to him.

"So?"

Nema shook her hand away from him and glared up at him, and he glared back with fiery green eyes and a firm frown. They pierced into her, but they somehow looked a little pleading, too. Nema cocked her head to the side and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Was he jealous?

Jinho seemed oblivious to the small conflict that formed between Michael and Nema and surveyed the house he was visiting. "Your home has gone through the strangest renovations, Nemaelle!"

"Nema."

Jinho turned to the Archangel with raised eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"It's Nema. Call her Nema." Michael snapped darkly.

Nema arched her pale brows up at Michael yet again, but Jinho only smiled sweetly. Michael wanted to slap that smile right off Jinho's face. "And you have a spokesman, now, Nema!" Oh God, that sugary soft voice of his…! Michael felt sick. "We obviously have never met." Jinho took off his top hat and bowed. "I am Park Jinho."

'I am ready to kick your ass.' Michael thought bitterly, but he only said, "Yeah, I figured."

"And you are Michael-sama." Jinho continued smiling.

Nema blinked rapidly and felt her puzzlement grow even larger. "… You've heard of him?"

"Oh, yes." Jinho spoke to Nema but kept his black eyes fixed on Michael as he sneered and pretended to find something in the distance that was more amusing than Jinho or Nema. "Though it is understandable that he does not know me. But that is not why I am here. I would like a private chat with my old friend. Assuming, of course, that the great Michael-sama doesn't mind?"

Jinho mocked his greatness, and Nema had no idea that it was a bigger deal than it might have seemed. Michael shook the need to deck Jinho's smiling face out of his body and sneered, merely saying, "Feh! Like I care."

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"Looks like the Rabbit has a visitor…"

"Shit, it's a Demon! High rank, maybe?"

"Definitely. He looks like he is a vampire type…"

"Should we tell Cheriour-sama?"

"No. Not yet, anyway. Let this run on. It could get interesting."

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"So how long is this gonna be?" Michael said gruffly, making a big show of examining the blade of his sword once again.

"How are we supposed to know that for certain, M-"

"I'm talking to Top Hat, not Mini Crown."

Nema sealed her mouth shut and glared at Michael, but Jinho simply smiled. "Well, Top Hat isn't very certain, either." He said eloquently, though softly. The Fire Angel rested his sword on his shoulder and shot Jinho a few more mental daggers before leaving them.

After a few seconds his head appeared from around the door. "Don't take long."

Michael was setting time limits, now? Who the Hell did he think he was? Nema bit her tongue as he left again, and Jinho's smooth voice started to flow.

"My, what a deadly weapon! Much more frightening than I had heard! Imagine the strength in that man… To wield something like THAT…"

"Jinho –"

"Oh, call me Oppa, like you used to." Jinho spoke with nostalgia dripping from his voice.

Nema remained silent for a moment. He really wanted her to call him that, still? "… Oppa, how do you know about Michael?"

"How could I not?" Jinho cried incredulously. "He is one of the highest ranking –" From outside Nema's door, the deliberate tapping of a sword blade against the floor made the Korean dandy goth pause. "… Perhaps I have said too much."

"… Said too much?" He hadn't said enough! He hadn't even started! For the longest time Nema had disregarded the fact that Michael was still quite the stranger to her, but it hit her hard right now. Who was Michael, anyway? Did he have siblings? A family? What was his surname? Where was he from? Did he have an actual job? Or was THIS… watching over Rabbits… his job? He was one of the highest ranking WHAT? Swordsmen? Assassins? Jerks? Protectors? Warlords? What? "Go on, Jinho-oppa! Michael is what?"

"Nema, you live with him, do you not? Let's talk about other things. Let's talk… about you. You've become… an elegant little Queen, haven't you?" Jinho said lightly, tapping the top of Nema's white mini-crown.

Nema? Elegant? She immediately pictured herself slamming her boots into the winged opponents she faced now and then. Then she thought of the number of swear words she used each day, while bickering with Michael. And Jinho called her 'elegant.' She couldn't help but laugh behind her hand. "I wouldn't say I act much like a Queen, Oppa. I cuss and stomp around and beat things up."

"A violent Queen, then." Jinho simply said with a smile. "Remember, Queens are allowed to be both beautiful and heartless."

Jinho was getting it all wrong. She had a heart, however messed up it felt, and she never really felt beautiful… especially lately. Nema looked at Jinho from the corner of her eye, letting the skepticism begin to wash over her. Why was he here, after all this time? Acting like there was no gap to fill… Smiling at her like he wasn't on the list of people who hurt her at some point. Sad thing was, Nema didn't know a single soul who wasn't on that list. "… You've got a silky tongue on you these days, don't you?" She didn't mean to sound cruel, but she could tell that she did.

"Yes… I suppose so, don't I? But I hope it does not make you suspicious."

"You being here is suspicious enough." She snapped and turned her back on him. She'd go ahead and act cruel. Why not? What made Jinho think it would be so easy to flow back into her life? She wasn't easy to bend anymore. Life taught her she couldn't be that way.

At least Jinho wasn't an idiot. He caught on immediately. "Oh, Nema, Nema…!" He approached her from behind and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her either like a needy friend or a boa constrictor. She made a big show of wincing under the pressure. "I understand your anger towards me. After all… we were misfits, you and I." He recalled the past fondly. "Friendless together… and then I abandoned you." Nema shuddered and bit her lip in shame. He was running his hands down her arms, caressing the almost-invisible inverted crosses etched into her skin. "I've noticed you are scarred." He whispered into her ear. "Life was cruel to you, wasn't it?"

"… Stop it…"

"Let me make up for my absenses…" He sounded almost like a snake as he ran his tongue up her neck.

"Stop it!" Nema spun and slapped him, his top hat tumbling to the ground. In that very second Michael reappeared, his sword brandished, his eyes glowing, and looking ready as ever to kill something.

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"Well, would you look at that! Someone get Cheriour-sama! He would find this entertaining!"

"Cheriour-sama is out hunting Rabbits. What horrible luck! Do you think blood will be spilt?"

"It's Michael. Why WOULDN'T blood be spilt?"

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"… Where are my manners?" Jinho bowed in apology, scooping up his hat. "I admit that was not very gentlemanly of me…"

"Gentlemanly, feh!" Michael spat. "Nema, leave."

She hesitated. She knew that look. And maybe she was angry… but she wasn't so angry she wanted Jinho DEAD. "Wait a –"

"Get out RIGHT NOW!" The Fire Angel roughly shoved a protesting Nema out of the room, locking the door before she could do anything about the situation.

Michael immediately went after Jinho, bringing the heavy blade of his Fire Sword down to meet Jinho's head. Jinho narrowly dodged, but his top hat suffered a severe cut through the top, leaving a large hole. Michael stepped on the material cut free from the hat. "You've got BALLS, but that shit will get you killed around HERE… fucking Demon!"

Though his hat was ruined, Jinho couldn't help but smile. "Oh, so you've seen right through me!"

"You reek of Hell. How couldn't I? And it doesn't take much thought if you fucking slip and almost say 'Sheol'!"

Jinho sighed. "Ah yes… Sheol, Seoul… I always get the two mixed up…"

Michael's blade swung through the air as he hastily waved aside Jinho's attempt at friendly chitchat. "I better not find any marks where you kissed her, Demon. If I do it'll be your fucking head!"

"Oh, I do not have that power… I am merely a lucky Demon who just got promoted. I probably will not gain the power to mark others with my kiss for a few years…"

"You're probably lying, so fuck you." Michael hissed. "Now you listen up! You're gonna leave, and you're never coming back!"

"Oh, but I haven't gathered enough sufficient information. I can't very well return to Lucifer-sama and simply say, 'Nemaelle is currently being held captive by your brother.'" Jinho continued to smile, but Michael's face expressed carefully guarded surprise, followed by another infamous sneer.

"What does HE want with her?"

"Please understand, Michael-sama. He is on good terms with her father… he sees Nemaelle as a sort of niece, if you will." And then a suspicious smile crossed the Demon's features. "But is it possible that I may have to report a change in that status? Perhaps she will become a sister-in-law?"

Sister-in-law? What the Hell made Jinho think that? The Fire Angel snarled at him and charged, the blade of his sword slashing once, twice. Jinho dodged once, lost a button to his fancy coat the second time. "Heyyyy now…" Jinho held up his hands in a helpless manner, however, the perpetual smile remained. "You forget that I AM one of Nema's friends. She would be heartbroken if she found me dead."

Michael scoffed. "Even though you just through yourself on her…!" Like Nema would forgive Jinho for that…

"Exactly." Jinho countered confidently. "You know she is such a doll like that. So quick to forgive, once she gets her fiery pouting out of the way. I am sure she's forgiven the great Michael-sama on more than one occasion, hasn't she?"

The Archangel paused, the angry features of his face softening for one second before they returned, but it was enough to know that Jinho had touched upon something. "… I have no idea what you're talking about." He said flatly.

"Oh, come now! It's YOU, Michael-sama. And if Lucifer-sama's word means anything, you must anger her several times a day!"

"You think he knows me because he's my brother? That THING doesn't deserve to call himself my brother!" Michael snapped cruelly.

"But he admits to his relation to you, even so." Jinho said simply. "… May I ask you something, Michael-sama?"

"No."

"I think I'll ask, anyway." Jinho ignored Michael's low grumbling. "Why? Why is the great War Angel looking after an Improper Child?"

"… I'm her Guardian Angel." Michael mumbled.

"Oh, really?" Michael despised the way Jinho's face lit up. "What a strange development! So God assigns YOU to watch over HER… My, that's like National Security for a single, tiny coin!" The Fire Angel laughed sarcastically, but Jinho ignored it. "I just really needed to know. It seemed so abnormal that such a high-ranking, White Wing, powerful Angel would turn his high nose down to a lowly bunny Rabbit."

White Wing? Was that some kind of comeback to all the derogatory terms and insults given to everyone else? Well, Michael didn't care just then. He cared about something else. "Nema isn't LOWLY!"

"Well, yes, I realize this. But is your kind that labels her as such. To your kind she isn't a girl, she is a walking violation and a sin, as though she chose to be created out of sexual relations." Jinho flipped up the picture of Nema and himself perched in their tree, tsking the photo as though he took pity on the girl in the frame. "That poor girl… those poor people. You dye their feathers black because they breathe your air and that somehow offends you. No, you don't even give them the time to breathe before you brand them Fallen. What a cruel way to welcome someone into the world."

"What, you think all that's MY fault?" Michael snapped. "I can't change what happened!"

"But you can keep it from getting worse." Jinho replied. "…So, is she Lucifer-sama's sister-in-law or not?"

"She's NOT!" Michael said firmly. To his dismay, Jinho smiled.

"Oh, good. Then one day I shall make her one of my wives."

Michael began laughing it off. It would never happen. Nema would never choose him, even if he did appear to dress in a way Nema could identify with, even if he did seem stuck on treating her like she really was a Queen, even if.. wait a minute. "ONE of your wives?"

"Why, yes. Nema would be the seventh wife."

Michael felt enraged and sick at the same time. "You keep dreaming, then! I won't let her join a harem even if she WANTS to! That's fucking sick!"

Jinho merely laughed at his outburst. "So edgy, Michael-sama! Do you feel threatened?"

"Why should I feel threatened by YOU?"

"Because I am the competition. Even after my long absence, I stand a chance. You know it and despise it."

"Shut the fuck up. The only thing you are is a Demon with a big mouth!"

"I am one of Lucifer-sama's top servants, not just any Demon, but I digress. I am, whether you like it or not, competition, Michael-sama. I'm not trying to threaten you, but merely stating it as a fact."

"I told you to shut the fuck up, dammit!" Michael tapped Jinho's chest with the tip of his sword. "You're just like everyone else! You think that because I spend all this time here, that must mean I've developed… some stupid… crush thing on her! And you're all fucking wrong!"

"Crush thing? My goodness, that's cute. But you see, maybe everyone thinks that because it's very, very true?"

Jinho didn't need to talk like he was bringing Michael into some kind of enlightenment, because Michael had already come to that conclusion. And damn everyone else for catching on before he did! Damn them for being so fucking smart and damn himself for going blind to something that seemed so out of place for him! "You know what? Just shut the fuck up."

"I'm afraid that I am a bit of a chatterbox, aren't I? But allow me to say a few more things."

"You gonna leave when you're done?" Michael asked bitterly.

"Yes, actually."

"Then talk and leave, I'm sick of you."

Jinho smiled once more. "Very well. So, it is widely known that it is Setsuna Mudou, Nemaelle's father, who destroyed God the first time around. It was with this that we ought to have learned a vital lesson. That Angels and Demons… and maybe even humans, too… that we are all one and the same. That Heaven and Hell are unnecessary dividers hindering our advancement. And yet, not long after, you White Wings reprogrammed God and set it all up again. You did so the reasoning that this reprogrammed version of God would be better, and that this would help maintain order. What you failed to realize is that you made Setsuna's actions irrelevant. A hero fixed it all, but you reset the game. And now we go on as though Setsuna had done nothing at all. We Demons don't have much to worry about, but you Angels… you poor White Wings… torturing yourselves, that's all you've done. Allowing yourselves to be submissive to God's silly rules. You want the girl, Michael-sama? Take the girl, should she want you, too! Don't let a computer tell you what to do!"

"What makes you think I've ever cared what God thinks? Don't talk like you know me just because you know my fucking brother!" Michael exploded. "It's not about what GOD thinks!" He let the words slice through him and settle hard and stinging in his chest. It was never about what God thought. It was about something else.

"What, then? Does she not like you?"

"She likes me." He stated plainly, honestly, feeling bothered now that a headache was creeping up on him.

"Then it must be you."

"It isn't me."

"It is you. But what is it about you? A love lost? A big ego? Both? I only make guesses here. Nema has come back to the door."

"What?"

"If you don't open this fucking door, I'm going to make it explode!" Nema cried out from the other side of the thick door.

"I dare you to try it!" Michael called back.

"This will be interesting… And in regards to my being your competition… I've been pulling your leg." Jinho smiled sweetly.

"… What?" Michael's eyes flashed in green hatred.

"I'm giving you a terrible headache, aren't I? Well, here is the truth of the matter. Nemaelle certainly surprised me. She's become very beautiful, very tempting. But I have six wives, and that's plenty for me. Besides, seven is a holy number."

Just then the door cracked and then crumbled into splinters, and Nema marched through in her white dress, looking as peeved as ever. "Oppa, what happened to your hat?"

"Your bodyguard happened to my hat." Jinho said simply, shrugging it off. "Nemaelle, I regret that we couldn't talk a bit more… but I must leave for Seoul."

"… You gonna write me or something?" Nema asked, eyeing him.

"I will try much harder to keep in touch this time." Jinho took her hand and kissed it once more, showing her hand to Michael. Nema was left to arch her brows in confusion as Michael rolled his greenish eyes.

And with that Jinho left, as swiftly as he had appeared.

"… I can't believe you're FRIENDS with that asshole, Nema!" Michael burst the second he shook away the headache, leaving a dull throb behind to attack him.

"How is Jinho an asshole, Michael! He's ten times more polite than either of us!"

"He covers it up with a top hat and kisses on your hand, that's all he does! I'll bet when he's alone he's got as dirty a mouth as we do!"

Nema shrugged. "Well, what do you care, Michael-samaaaa?"

"I don't care!"

"You are so convincing." Her ruby eyes rolled as she sat on her bed, ignoring how Michael flopped down next to her. Like he belonged there, or something. Nema only wished. "… So how does he know you?"

"… Hell if I know."

"You're a fucking liar, Michael-samaaaa."

The Fire Angel scowled up at her. "Aren't you just a bitch today? Lay off the 'samaaa'!"

"Why? Jinho seems to think it's important to address you that way. You remember when we first met? You wanted me to call you that. Now you don't?"

"Don't act so fucking innocent. You drip with sarcasm when you say it, so knock it off!"

"Fine, fine, Michael-sama." Nema held her hands up helplessly, losing the bite in her voice. "… But you do know why he knows you. Who are you, Michael?"

"What the Hell kind of question is that? You know me!"

"… No, actually, I don't."

Michael looked up from where he lay as Nema rested her back against her headboard. "Hey, cheer up, kid! What the Hell do you wanna know?" He wondered what he could get away with.

"… I don't know. Lots of things."

Michael snorted. "It helps to start somewhere."

"Okay, fine. How abouuuuut… family. You have family?"

"'Course I have family!" Michael said irritably. She better not ask…

"Who?" Michael fought the urge to tell her to mind her own business, and then she added a name. "Raphael?"

The Archangel blinked up at her, and broke into wild laughter, his fist pounding on her bed. "Oh shit, that's funny. I'm gonna tell him that the next time I see him."

"… Okay, fine, it's not him. You have parents?"

"Nope."

"Siblings?"

"One." Michael visibly tensed after letting that one word slip. Shit, he'd really said that? It suddenly hit him that he'd invited Nema into territory he never let anyone else into. She'd smoothly slipped through the barrier! Damn her. Damn him.

"… Not on good terms with the person?"

"Nope."

"Okay, fine, we won't go into that."

"Good."

"… How about a girl?"

"What?"

"A girlfriend, Michael."

"Oh. Not really."

"Ever had one?"

"… Not… really…" Nema was skipping on into even more heavily guarded territory. He shouldn't let her. Why was he letting her?

"… What, was she just someone you were interested in?"

"Maybe." Michael said grudgingly.

"And she went bitchy and turned you away?"

"Bal wasn't a bitch! She just got caught up in the wrong shit at the wrong fucking time!" The Fire Angel snarled at Nema. This was getting way too risky. Why did he let Nema in? She was FINE regarding him as the mysterious guardian. She didn't NEED to know any of this! How could he push her out?

Nema watched him glaring up at her with vivid green eyes. He was looking less and less human by the second, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. "… What happened?" She asked quietly.

She regretted asking the second she let the last word leave her mouth. The Fire Angel pounced on her, pinning her upper half to the headboard of her bed. "You wanna know what HAPPENED? She got in the way! That stupid bitch got in the way! HE was supposed to die! Not her! And what the fuck did she DO?" Michael hissed at her. "Killing herself for my fucking brother, feh! Throwing herself in the way of my sword! That blow was meant for HIM, not her!"

Nema cringed in pain as Michael's grip tightened over her wrists. She shrank back as well as she could. "… Your sword?"

"Yes MY SWORD! I was out to kill my own brother, and I killed HER instead! How does that make you FEEL, Nema? Still feel safe with me now? Do you?"

"Michael… stop it…"

"Amazing you EVER felt safe with me to begin with!"

"You're hurting me…" Nema thought that she could see his eyes begin to reveal bits of blue, but he pulled away too fast for her to be certain. She slid down onto her pillow, caressing her throbbing wrists.

Michael rubbed his hands down his face and shook his head, and then pointed at Nema. "No more questions from you; it's MY turn! So how about YOU, Ghostly Girl? You have any past romances you feel like sharing? How far did you get with that fucking prick Jinho?"

Nema sat up, her red eyes angry. "I never got anywhere with Jinho! What kind of fucked up question is that? I was six when he moved away! I liked Jinho because he GAVE me the light of day, not because I wanted to fuck him!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. And no other hopeful suitors for the Ghostly Girl?"

"No, and why? Because I AM the Ghostly Girl! Thank you for reminding me!" Nema screamed and slapped him once, then twice, but the third time around Michael was gripping her wrists again and forcing her back down onto her bed.

"No one else because you're too pale? That's a stupid reason, isn't it?" Michael's blue-green eyes bore into hers.

"I don't know! You tell me!" Nema hissed, and then her red eyes went round.

Michael was kissing her again. It was the same passionate, hungry kiss he'd given her the last time they had been in this position, but he wasn't pressing so hard against her mouth this time. It felt so much more genuine that way… No! She wouldn't go weak in the knees! What would he do if she did? Pull away and call her pathetic? She flailed as well as she could under his body, feeling all the heat rush to her face. No good. Suddenly, even the layers of her long, white skirt, and the white corset covering her midriff, did nothing to make her feel covered and secure. She still felt so very exposed under Michael's heated body and his devouring kiss. He almost felt feverish. SHE almost felt feverish. And then it felt like the air around them had become humid and thick with the heat. Michael ended the kiss and Nema watched him open his eyes. They were blue. So blue that it looked like there had never been a touch of green in them.

She felt his fingers tug on the bow securing her mini-crown in place, and he kissed her again as he took it off and laid it on top of her clock.

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"… Cheriour-sama…?"

"What are you doing away from your post? Continue watching over Nemaelle."

"That's just it, sir…! I don't know if I want to right now…!"

"You WHAT?" Cheriour's voice actually rose. This, of course, was never a good sign, and the cloaked Angel rushed to the room his underling had been stationed in. It was one of many rooms used for spying, and they'd set up an extensive perimeter around Nema's house. They'd been sure to do so since the day Nema had received her powers. Cheriour's eyes, shielded from everyone by blonde hair, scanned over the different screens until he came upon the two. "… Oh MY… what is THIS?" Cheriour grinned. "So much for celibacy, Michael-sama…! Now the question is, have you forced her into this, or did she willingly give herself? … And do you honestly want her?"

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Michael honestly wanted Nema. For so long he'd spent his time convincing himself that he did not want her, or that he wanted no one, but the great Archangel Michael could not stand up to the war inside himself. It was the only war Michael had hated from the beginning… That was why he hated women…! They ran the risk of throwing him into the only war he could never prepare himself for!

It was difficult for Michael to find a girl that he could truly want. For the many years of his life there had only been one other, and she, like everyone else at the time, had fallen for Lucifer's charm. Leaving Michael in the dirt. There had been no one else, and there wasn't supposed to BE anyone else… Now he was here with Nema.

She was no one that he would've imagined wanting to spend his life with. While she was a strong and spirited girl, on the outside she was everything he would have turned away. A girl wrapped up in a petticoat and a mini-crown… and an Improper Child. He'd never have thought that he could find the one girl that he could… He never would have thought that he would ever…

Nema was pressed hard against him this whole time, but it was hard to tell if she felt near or far. She was bewildered, but happy. It was no big secret that Nema had developed a deep admiration for him. In spite of his rudeness and his rough nature, Nema had grown very fond of him. She would never understand her logic, but at this moment, she didn't care if her heart had been rational or not.

Because maybe all that mattered was that right now, it felt like he wanted her right back. Maybe all that mattered was that his eyes, more blue than green for once, looked down on her with this uncharacteristic caring that she'd somehow always known he could be capable of, if only he let himself feel it…

If only he let himself feel like he just might…

Suddenly the world went from spinning so fast to freezing up. Michael and Nema collapsed against each other as the world stopped, Nema blushing and out of breath, Michael giving a great sigh. "… God…"

Nema breathed deeply as she stared up at him. It was the first time Nema had ever heard Michael say 'God' like that… Michael always seemed to refer to God as though he actually knew Him. 'Unless he's talking to God right now, or something…' Nema thought. She was actually half-serious about that notion.

She was right to be serious about it. Michael nuzzled his face against Nema's, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, speaking in sighs. "… God, I think I've fallen in love with her…"

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Cheriour watched them perform their deed and say their words. He was the only person in that room that managed to watch it without becoming modest or leaving. Even when they had finished, Cheriour kept watching, thinking deeply. It wasn't until they had fallen asleep that Cheriour said anything at all. "… Well, well… Things have just gotten… VERY interesting."


	13. Chapter 13

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirteen_

By: Brenli

"Jinho… how was the trip?"

"Rather quick, your Highness… I ran into an unexpected person."

"Really? Who?"

"Your brother… Michael-sama."

"… You are lying."

"No, I am not. I received the most interesting news! Michael-sama has been assigned as Nemaelle's Guardian Angel!"

A figure, noble and dark, sat regally upon his equally dark throne. To his left sat a woman in white, her long, dark waves of hair shadowing her face. The man laughed. "My poor little brother! It's a small three worlds, isn't it?"

Jinho let a smile pass over his lips. "It is, indeed. Michael seems to be living with her in exchange of her parents…"

"According to various sources, Setsuna and Sara are on a sort of second honeymoon for their pretend anniversary. Michael must be babysitting, the poor soul!"

"With all due respect, your Highness, Nemaelle is no longer at such a sweet young age. Time on Assiah moves more quickly, if you remember. It is lucky that I can manipulate my age. She is now turning into quite a beautiful young lady, and if I dare make speculations, Michael-sama just might make her his own."

A smile curled itself onto the usually cool features of Lucifer's face. "Is that so? Your speculations are usually very accurate, as well." He turned to his shadowed Queen. "Did you hear that? You may have a sister-in-law after all!"

Through the shadows, a small smile very slowly appeared upon the face of Lucifer's dearest Queen.

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Well. There was no way any of that had been real. Honestly. Why would Michael ever do something like that? Okay, fine, he gave up. He developed actual feelings for a girl. If he could run into a version of himself from thirty, ten, or even one year ago, that other self would have cut his head off. And he knew that if he ever told anyone, he wouldn't hear the end of it.

But even so. There was no way that he'd really…

Though Michael was waking up, he smiled and laughed at himself silently, stretching out in the blankets. It was probably just a dream. Well, it was definitely just a dream. A way for him to be rid of building tension. After all, it wouldn't do if he really had…

Feh. He didn't even have to think about it anymore. It was just a dream, after all. The Archangel rolled onto his side, enjoying the abnormal softness of his pillow. Usually his pillow, being squished between the floor and Nema's bedside table, felt a bit lumpy. It probably didn't help that he never fluffed his pillow, either. It wasn't his thing. But now… it felt damn near perfect. Did Nema fluff his pillow? That wouldn't do. Even if he did… you know… care about her, he wouldn't have her running around acting like a housewife. That wasn't his thing, either.

But, hey, for now, why not enjoy the abnormally soft pillow? Michael's body relaxed, preparing to fall into slumber, when a loud ringing pounded into his ears. "… Damn you… fucking clock…" Michael mumbled into the pillow. On instinct his hand formed a tight fist and flung up and over to beat the life out of the clock.

His fist hit a wall.

Or a headboard.

Michael's blue-green eyes shot wide open to take in his surroundings. It hit him all at once. His abnormally soft pillow wasn't even his to begin with. The clock was not up above him, but by his side, and Nema formed a barrier between himself and the clock.

A very naked Nema.

He was very naked, too.

He watched, frozen, as Nema rolled over and blindly groped the white mini-crown sitting on top of her alarm clock. She tipped her mini-crown over, and Michael watched it topple onto the lumpy pillow he usually slept on. Finally she turned it off and she continued to lay there, her back now facing him. After a while, her breathing slowed, and she was asleep once more.

Michael took a breath. It was real… it had all been… Oh fuck. Literally. The Fire Angel slipped out of Nema's bed as silently as he could, making sure he didn't tug at the blankets. He looked at the mass of blankets that he should have slept in. The mess looked worse now that his black clothes and her white ones were mixed together in a pile with the sheets. He snuck a peek at her face. A few strands of her snowy hair fell over her face, but if anything, it added to her beauty as she slept on. Damn, she looked pretty.

The Archangel quickly shook his head and began putting his clothes back on. He just hoped Raphael wouldn't drop in for a visit until this was all figured out. Oh God, there was a lot to figure out.

Where was his shirt? He found it balled up under her corset, but he didn't wear it, like he had initially been planning. Instead he lightly threw it over the exposed upper half of Nema's body. Then he kissed the crown of her head and left. Why the Hell not? He did a whole lot more than that the night before, apparently.

The further he was from Nema the more he allowed the blade of his Fire Sword to tap the ground as he dragged it behind him. The thud of metal against the floor provided a poor excuse for background noise, but it was better than the silence, which seemed to scream over and over the events of last night.

Autumn was finally beginning to make an appearance. Michael could feel it actually starting to bite at his face as he stepped out, hearing the thud of his sword turn into the ting of metal on concrete. There was that stump… sawed as smooth as he could get it with his sword. Even that was real.

What could he do, then? What was Nema going to do? Did she even want that to happen? The questions swirled themselves into a heavy blanket over the Archangel's head. He could come up with no answers no matter how hard he thought. Damn it all! Why did he push it so far? What made him do it? Was it Jinho? Was it himself? Her? Was it all three? He let the thoughts and feelings shower down on him, ringing true, unsullied with excuses and lies. He hated Jinho. He envied him, more than anything. He could see them, the perfect elegant couple, and damn Jinho back into Hell for being able to fit that role. But at least Michael could save Nema from far more than Jinho ever could. Right? Jinho couldn't keep Cheriour away, but Michael could, he could keep him up in Heaven and far away from her. Only he could do that, and for once he was proud that he could do something for someone else and not for himself. And that was different and hard for him, but there was something to be proud of, if he wasn't being selfish for once. No one could call him a Child General of Heaven if he had changed his motivations. He could be looked up to, now, right? If he was doing something for someone else, if he was doing something for her? Taking the hurt out of those ruby eyes as they looked up at him, pink blush spreading over her pale face. If there was nothing to be proud of in throwing himself on her, he could be happy she wasn't glaring at him, thinking he was cruel, evil, heartless. And it was so much better than seeing sad eyes, lonely eyes, revealing that she was thinking she was unworthy, ugly. How much better it was if those eyes expressed admiration, happiness, comfort under the broad white wings he could never show her?

And then it all came back down to that in spite of status and power, he was just one man, standing in a backyard tapping a sword on the concrete steps leading into the yard. That there was no mercy for him or her; they were both sinners now, though it can be reasonably argued that neither of them were saintly to begin with. Even if her desires and needs weren't unwarranted, she still did not deserve to receive shit, and even if his actions had an honorable logic behind it, he would not be excused. What kind of messed up fate was that? Fuck that. Fuck all that; Nema deserved to be safe and secure for once, and damn it, he would destroy ANYONE who would try to harm her, and he'd enjoy every fucking second! No one would make this future impossible, not Jinho, not Cheriour, not God.

But it still came back to this: What would he do when Nema woke up? Should he go back inside, sit down beside her? Should he wait outside, let Nema find him again? What would he say? How would she feel? There were no answers, just endless chains, all coming back to the same few questions!

Michael dimly heard the crack of wood, and he realized that in his mental anguish he'd marched forth and struck the stump before him with his magnificent sword. It served to knock away the chains wrapping around him, brought back his senses. His hearing grew stronger; finally, the blurred images before him became sharp again. He could hear muffled voices, cold, cruel. Immediately he pulled his sword from the wounded stump and held it before him, blue-green eyes peering, feet taking slow, careful steps back into the house.

But it was too late. The tortured brain couldn't send the proper signals quickly enough. He was overcome, blinded by black feathers, and restricted, knocked forward, almost biting the ground. And then the sharp, stinging pains on his back… they had his wings! They were pulling him back up by his wings!

"How do you like all the pretty black feathers, Michael-sama? We pluck them from the wings of our favorite kills. We thought you might like to see them." The black feathers finally fluttered away, and the owner of the icy voice stepped forth, blonde hair hiding his cold eyes.

Michael could think of nothing to say. He could barely think… the wings! The fucking wings! Pulling too hard, too far out, oh fuck, were they going to rip them off? Nema! Gotta call out! Make her run! Make her fly! All that came out was a broken yell, but he hoped Nema would hear. Damn it, she better hear!

"Oh dear, that's no good." Cheriour said placidly, and he wrapped black cloth around Michael's mouth several times. "I couldn't help but notice she seemed to enjoy a certain event yesterday… And for a creature born out of primal sins, I suppose that is normal. But my goodness… you? Allow me to say this… but I am very disappointed in you." He looked at the two Angels maintaining a hard grip on Michael's broad wings. "Pull harder."

Michael's yell was muffled by the thick black cloth, and he could feel the other limbs being bound, as well. They wrapped his sword carefully in the same dark cloth and attached chains; their pathetic attempt at being able to carry his sword without being scorched by the sheer heat of it. He knew they would still have problems carrying it back up. In spite of the pain and the sudden hopelessness of the situation, he laughed through the cloth at his mouth and endured the sharp slap.

"I find it amazing that you can laugh in the face of a situation in which the odds are very, very against you, Michael-sama." Cheriour said sourly. "I don't know how much you know about Wing Cutting… Surely, you recall how sloppy a job it used to be. But, being the Angel of Punishment, and thanks to the initiation of the Rabbit Hunting, I have had several subjects with which to test some theories. Cutting is a supreme torture, but messy, and as the overwhelming pain makes the body give out and die, it doesn't always help if you are trying to milk out information. For example, just last week I came across a Rabbit, apparently celebrating the recent birth of his first child. I had intended to find the mother and baby as well, but the Rabbit died from the pain before I could learn of their location."

Michael was breathing hard from the pain echoing down his back and through his chest, now, too. There was no stirring in the house. Nema hadn't heard!

Cheriour was still rambling on. "Pulling works for these purposes, usually, but we pulled them back… like so…" Michael let out a muffled scream as they stretched his wings back. Yet it was a relief compared to before. The pain was still in his back, but no longer in his chest. "But as you may feel right now, the pain is something that can be adapted to. But… if you pull the wings outwards… like so…" And then Michael felt the pain return to his chest. It was even working into his gut, as well. "The pain is magnified two to three times." A cold smile spread over his mouth. "But here is my favorite conclusion to my experiments. Pulling the wings in this manner apparently opens up several spots centered at the base of the wings, joining the back. It is amazing what these sensitive areas can do. Some appear to be ticklish, and others spread a strange fuzzy feeling through the body. A real comfort if one is being subjected to this kind of torture, yes? But I have a favorite spot. It is a great help if the hostage is too loud, or, in your case, a bit wild and hard to restrain."

Cheriour walked behind him and Michael felt a sharp flick on the base of his wings. It made his whole body stiffen, and then he felt everything going limp. No…! Not happening… not to him… he had to at least get to Nema! She had to run… She… He couldn't see! What the fuck? Oh God, are You really so cruel? Nema… she…

"Now, relax, Loverboy… Nemaelle is safe for now. It takes a few seconds for you to completely pass out, so allow me to fill those seconds with more words. I have decided to conduct an experiment. What happens when a Rabbit feels betrayed by her protector? What happens when he disappears, without a word, the very day after he indulged his lusty little urges with her body? What feelings run through the brain? What will she feel compelled to do? We will let the experiment run for seven days. Then I shall see what the results are."

Michael felt like his heart was shredding up in his attempt to say anything at all, but even his vocal chords were failing him, now. He choked out syllables muffled in black cloth before it all went dark, but in his head it echoed loud and clear.

"Fucking idiot! Her heart will break like anyone else's!"

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Nema heard not a sound, poor soul, and she slept deeply until the shrill ringing of a telephone made her stir. She smiled as she pulled fabric closer to her and realized it was not the thick material of her blankets but the thinner cloth of Michael's black, button-up shirt. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and picked up the phone on the last ring. "Moshi moshi?" She sighed into the phone.

"Did I wake you? It's dad." Setsuna's voice came through.

"Yeah, you woke me, but that's okay. Isn't it like ten at night over there? Shouldn't you old people be in bed by now?" Nema teased lightly. Nothing could bring her down. Not after a night like last night… not that she was going to tell her father about any of that.

"Shouldn't you young whipper snappers be out and about?" Setsuna teased back. "We'll be home in a week. You haven't broken anything, have you?"

Nema sat up and stretched. "No. Everything breakable is down in the basement. We have to get new windows… oh, and my door is broken."

"The hinges?"

"No, I mean the actual door itself is broken." Nema spoke casually as she tried on Michael's shirt, slipping her arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.

"… Michael's fault?"

"No, you've got no one to blame but me, dad." Nema chirped as she hopped out of bed and observed herself in the vanity mirror. The shirt sleeves left only her fingertips exposed and did a good enough job of covering everything else. She laughed as she listened to her father sigh, and then her mother was on the phone, instead.

"Are you two behaving yourselves?"

What a question! "We're not causing anyone else any trouble." Nema said simply.

"Is everything okay over there?"

What was with apprehensive tone? Suddenly Nema's sunny disposition got a cloud in it. "… Everything is fine, mom. Why?"

"I started getting a weird feeling this morning… Is Michael there? I need to talk to him."

Okay. Now this was getting just plain scary. Was her mother some sort of psychic? "Ano… he's not in the room with me… just a second." Nema commenced a search for the missing Archangel. "Miiiiiiichael…" She called down the hall, into the living room. She stepped into the kitchen. "… Where the Hell are you?" She asked in a curious whisper. For some reason she looked up, again. Just in case he might have perfected a way to drop down from her kitchen ceiling. "... I can't find him, mom…" She said to Sara.

"… Really?"

"Yeah."

Nema sat down on one of the tall chairs around the island of her kitchen as she listened to Sara cover the phone with her sleeve. In spite of the muffling, Nema could hear her parents talking in rushed, worried voices. This was a bigger deal to them than she thought it would have been.

Did it bother her? Yes, a little bit. She ideally would have liked him to remain in bed with her. At the same time, she knew that if Michael wanted to get up, he'd get up. He'd probably do that even after a night like last night. Not out of any ill will towards her. Simply because lying in bed while you're wide awake can be a bit boring.

So where was he, then? Nema bit into an apple as her parents talked amongst themselves. She might as well not even be on the phone, anymore. Suddenly she realized that she hadn't checked outside. Nema's bare feet took small, quick steps to the back door, and she flung it open and stepped outside.

Nothing. No one. Nema's red eyes fixated on several scattered black feathers, feathers she knew were not her own because she had stopped that annoying shedding three or four days ago. Where had these come from? She stepped forth and observed the deep gash in the stump. She touched it. The wood felt strangely warm, and she thought that perhaps Michael had been the one to strike it.

She could hear her mother calling her name through the phone, and she rushed inside. She held the phone to her ear.

"Nema? Nema, sweetie? Are you still there? I can hear you breathing, sweetheart. Are you okay? Nema?"

Why wasn't Nema responding? She had questions of her own. Why were there black feathers outside? Why was her stump split open? Why did she get this foreboding feeling when she stood out there? It was more than the cold. It wasn't even that cold to begin with. But she got the distinct feeling that she was better off holed up inside.

She shouldn't HAVE to be better off holed up inside. Why? Because she had Michael there to keep the trouble away, and playfully pick on her the whole while. She could go wherever she wanted to, so long as Michael was there to kick some ass when it needed to be done. But now Michael was no where to be found. Suddenly the strange morning-after bliss she'd woken up with was far away from her. Where was he? He wouldn't leave her alone. It had to be a trick of timing. He was probably somewhere else in the house right now. Maybe he was back in her bedroom. Maybe.

She rushed into the kitchen. No. The living room. Again, no. She sprinted down the hall and into her bedroom. No one. The bathroom. No one.

Then she thought of the dumbest thing ever. Maybe he was in the basement. Like he had a REASON to be in the basement. Well, why not? Why not go in the basement if that's what he wanted to do? Still Sara was calling for Nema.

"Wait." Nema breathed into the phone, and she rushed into the hall, threw open a creaky door, rushed down the stairs of the basement. The lights weren't even on, but she tried it, anyway. And sure enough, he wasn't there, like she'd already known. Just another trick of timing, right? … Right?

Michael wouldn't leave her alone… after all of THIS… He was mean and careless, but not so much that he would…

Nema dropped to her knees in the dark basement, and brought the phone back up to her ear. "… Michael isn't home, anymore…"

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"The Rabbit isn't in any of our cameras, anymore… Where did she go?"

"I believe she put herself in the basement. We didn't set anything up down there."

"… May I ask you something? Something we shall keep secret?"

"You may."

"… Why is Cheriour-sama running this experiment?"

"You doubt him?"

"Well, it's nothing like treason! I just think… Well, we've got the one thing keeping her safe. She was ASLEEP. We could have very easily been rid of her… Don't you think?"

"… We could have, yes."

"… And isn't that simply the more…"

"Logical move? … Maybe. Maybe."

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One hour passed. Two hours. It had become blatantly obvious that Michael wasn't anywhere near Nema… and the possibility that he wasn't coming back was getting closer and closer to reality.

Nema had told Sara that she had to let her go. She hung up. She turned the phone back on and let it sit like that, the monotonous dial tone barely heard as she continued to sit in the basement.

But it didn't make sense! Everything had felt too perfect for this! There was something she must've not known… There were a LOT of things she didn't know!

There was no way this could be real. The blue eyes that told her he loved her… THOSE eyes were real, but there was no way that this morning had been real. Was this a cruel dream? She honestly decided to pinch herself. That didn't work. She scratched at herself. No good. She felt her skin going raw, and she stopped.

But Michael wouldn't do this to her! Maybe he was a spiteful little jerk, but wasn't she slowly becoming an exception to that treatment? He hadn't promised to become a better person for nothing! And he hadn't run in to save the day for nothing!

… Or maybe he had done all those things… for something… and already got it.

Nema quickly shook the dreaded thought from her mind and sprinted up the stairs and through the house one last time. He wasn't here, he wasn't here!

"You aren't this evil…" She whispered out loud. How could she reach him? She needed to find him!

Then she remembered that they had swapped phone numbers. She flung herself into her bedroom and hunted down her cell phone, and quickly called his.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

Nema fought back frightened, betrayed, angry tears.

Four rings. Five.

"You're not worth my time. You know what to do." _Beeeeep._

On any other day Nema would have laughed at that. But not today. "THIS ISN'T FUCKING FUNNY, MICHAEL! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? DON'T YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME ALONE? THOSE WEIRD WINGED PEOPLE ARE GOING TO KILL ME! DON'T YOU CARE ANYMORE?" She couldn't hold it back anymore. She sniffled and cried. "I gave my body to you for more reasons than to have a good time… Did you ever think that maybe I love you, too? Did you ever think that maybe I loved you before you ever loved me? But I guess you don't love me, anyway… Guess that was just a way to fill in the silence after fucking me!" Nema couldn't breathe anymore. "THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME THAT I'M NOT WORTH YOUR TIME!"

And then the phone began its drawling dial tone, letting Nema know that she wasn't worth any more time than the amount given to her.

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"… I believe he is regaining consciousness…"

Michael took a shaky breath. He was no longer in pain, but he could tell that he was restrained… it felt like the links of chains were holding him up. The room was cold, very cold.

"Michael-sama." Cheriour's voice came through some sort of intercom. The Fire Angel's blue-green eyes snapped open, and he finally lifted his head.

He was in prison, chained up in a room coated in Angel Crystal. Michael's eyes narrowed. He had not committed a crime worth putting him in a room like this one.

"How do you like your room?" Cheriour asked calmly.

Michael sneered. "You really so fucking scared of me, Cheriour? Think I'm gonna burn your head off the second I wake up?" Cheriour offered no answer, and Michael scoffed. "Fucking coward."

Cheriour stood stationary for a long while, maintaining the icy countenance that would eventually send chills through anyone. And then a slow, menacing smile spread itself across his features. "… I have the results for day one of Experiment Number 36040, Mudou Nemaelle. I would like to share them with you, Michael-sama."

Michael scowled and pretended that a corner of the room was more interesting. In spite of this, Cheriour continued.

"7:13 A.M., precisely seven minutes after the removal of Michael-sama, subject Nemaelle awakens to a phone call from her parents. The subject has the appearance of happiness and speaks with a light, singsong voice. She teases her parents and by all means appears to be quite blissful.

"7:19 A.M., mother Mudou Sara asks for Michael-sama. The subject commences a search for said person, and does not find him in the house. The subject seems confused, possibly annoyed, but her voice still reveals a sense of happiness.

"7:23 A.M., subject Mudou Nemaelle goes outside. She notices several Rabbit feathers and a gouge in the formerly perfect tree stump. All appearance of happiness seems to leave her at this point. She looks afraid, and rushes back inside.

"7:25 A.M., subject is running through the house, searching for Michael-sama. Her efforts reap no reward. She is noticeably distraught.

"7:29 A.M., the subject disappears into the basement. At the point, she is unable to be viewed, but it is easily speculated that the subject feels shocked, scared, hurt, or all three."

Michael had no choice but to hang there and listen to Cheriour describe what Michael had missed, feeling strange stabbing pains in his chest. Who knew what Nema was thinking… Michael had the distinct feeling that Cheriour was only offering watered-down versions of the truth, because there was no way Cheriour could honestly tell what Nema was thinking. Michael could. Michael could come up with what he assumed was so close to Nema's exact thoughts, it was creepy. And Michael knew that Nema was falling for this sick trick… Nema thought she had been jilted.

"9:31 A.M., at last the subject is visible. She looks extremely distressed, near to tears. There is a noticeably pink patch of skin on her left forearm. It appears to be the cause of scratching or some other type of rough friction. She runs up to her room and looks for her cell phone. The subject dials a number, presumably the number to Michael-sama's phone. It is indeed his number. The phone records a voicemail." Cheriour stopped and played the missed message.

"THIS ISN'T FUCKING FUNNY, MICHAEL! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" Michael flinched. Nema screamed and screamed. But the truly heartbreaking part was when she finally broke down into tears. Michael hung there, suspended, and listened to Nema fall for Cheriour's trick, hook, line, and sinker. Did she really think he was so heartless? Why was it so easy to come to that conclusion? Did she have no faith in him?

But the truth of it all was, no one else had ever had as much faith in him as Nema. And Cheriour took it all away.

The restricted Archangel listened and stared at the floor with unblinking, bright green eyes, breaths coming from him ragged and erratic.

"Oh, goodness, look here, Michael-sama! An update! 8:57 P.M. – time certainly flies fast on Assiah! – Subject Nemaelle sits on the floor of the living room, under a hole that was formerly a window. I believe you where the one to remove the window glass, were you not? I digress… Subject sits on the floor… yada yada yada… Oh, subject has fallen ill with a cold! Well, she brings it on herself. Bear in mind, Michael-sama, that she wore the shirt you left behind, and she still wears it and it alone. She is asking for illness! Why would she ever consider doing that? She must be… what do they call it, it's a bit like a betrayal and yet it is much more emotionally scarring… ah yes. They call it heartbreak, right? Oh yes. She stopped crying a few hours ago but has started again. That is another symptom, is it not? Record all of this…"

Cheriour was now speaking more to his servants than to Michael. Symptoms of heartbreak? Since when had heartbreak become a medical condition? The Fire Angel's torn breathing didn't do the trick anymore. He let out a yell, loud and fierce as only Michael could make it, and the room was soon smothered in raging flames. The fire licked Michael's chains and the crystalline walls, but to no avail.

"My, what a grand show!" Cheriour said with that cold smile on his face, but that last thing Michael felt was grand, and the last thing he meant to do was make a show.

But that seemed to be Michael's way, didn't it? The last thing he'd wanted to do this morning was cause Nema pain, but there it was. Could Michael do anything right?

The Archangel's ragged breaths echoed off the walls and said it for him. "You can't… not even for her."


	14. Chapter 14

AUTHORESS NOTE: I don't know why I ever mentioned it before… I keep assuming you guys already know this and that and everything in between. Not saying that you guys don't… But as a writer I should always be prepared for "new" or "foreign" terms to explain.

I should have done this a LONG time ago, but secondary school is the equivalent of high school.

So you can safely assume that primary school is the equivalent of elementary school. Maybe junior high, too?

Why do I bring this up? Because I write 'primary school' once. I'm a LOSER!

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Fourteen_

By: Brenli

Four days passed. Nema's hand put a black 'X' on that day. Four thick, black 'X's on her calendar. They stuck out and looked ugly to her.

She sneezed. For four days this persistent cold stayed in her system, as if to serve as a bitter reminder of what had happened the day she'd fallen ill. Michael had left her in the dirt.

Strangely, since then, Nema had not had to worry about the winged beings that she had grown to be cautious of. As though the moment Michael had went away, they no longer had interest in her. She found it ironic that the lack of protection seemed to have finally brought her peace.

Inside she felt anything but peaceful. Everything was too quiet, now. Too empty. Too peaceful to give her any peace at all, as contradictory as that statement may be. She took to wearing Michael's shirt often, over her tank tops and skirts. She stopped wearing her mini-crowns and continually forgot to put on a petticoat under her skirt. She looked scruffy and she knew it. Problem was, she didn't care. Why should she care? Who was there to impress, anyway? She was a fool to be so obsessed with fancy crowns. No one would ever truly care for her, regardless of her manner of dress.

Oh, indeed, she was not worth caring about. She was ugly and pale like dried glue left on the primary school desks. Something to be chipped away and thrown in the trash.

Nema decided it was time for a shower. She took them often, now, in contrast to her sloppy dressing habits. It had nothing to do with wanting to be physically clean. She spent as many as three hours under hot water for the sole purpose of washing away the invisible marks on her body, all the places Michael's hands had touched, whether it had been on… that night… or any other, average day.

Now she was sitting on the floor of her shower, the water feeling as though it were about to scorch her white flesh. She endured the pain, watching her skin become flushed and pink with the heat. And Nema wished she could be this pink all the time. Then all she would have needed was some black hair dye… and she could leave her eyes the way they were. Some people actually liked her eyes… it was the less pigmented parts of her that got her no where.

Her head landed softly against the wall of her shower, and the drops of water mixed with yet another batch of tears. Nema couldn't remember the last time she'd cried this much… now it was a simple involuntary action; she cried not of her own will, but because her eyes couldn't hold anything back anymore. She no longer sobbed, even. She just let it run out of her.

When had she become so fragile? She almost preferred how she used to act whenever she had been wronged. She used to hit things, and swear, and sulk. She was the Angry Girl. Nema would've given anything to be the Angry Girl, again… but now all she was… was an empty girl.

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"Nema-Nema! Wake up, sweetheart!"

Nema curled into a tight ball, finally registering the ringing of her alarm clock and the continuous patting of her mother's hand on her thigh. "… What?"

"You're ALREADY late for school, Nema! Here!" Sara shoved into Nema's hands her box lunch. "Mika is here to take you to school!"

"What?"

Sara only sighed, shaking her head and throwing Nema's summer uniform at her. Lost in a state of confusion, Nema threw on her uniform and raked a brush through her ivory hair, sprinting out of her house.

She stopped before a hand holding out a dark red mini-crown. "Here, you want this?"

Nema looked up… there he was. Wearing, of all things, the Shibuya Senior High School male uniform, and his left cheek did not have a blue dragon there to greet anyone. "… Mika?"

"Who else? Here." Mika's blue eyes rolled and he hastily tied the mini-crown on Nema's head, forming a little bow under her pale chin. "Come on! We're fucking late and it's all YOUR fault this time!"

He snatched her hand and they ran a good block and a half before he said anything else. "So where's my shirt?"

"Your shirt?" Nema suddenly remembered that she had left it in her bed. "… It's still at home."

"Well why'd you leave it there? You've had it for a week, now! I want it back!"

"Chill, Mika! It's not going anywhere!" Nema snapped crossly.

"Uh oh, are you ANGRY? I am so fucking scared!" Mika laughed cruelly.

Nema roughly pulled her hand away from him and turned the other way, stomping back home.

"Hey, can't you take a joke? Someone's touchy today!" Mika rushed over and embraced her from behind. "I'll just sneak in tonight and… pick it up, then. How does that sound?"

Nema blushed. "It sounds like a dangerous idea. We're gonna get caught if you do that too much."

"Let them catch us! I'm not afraid!" Mika said boldly, and scooped Nema onto his back, beginning to run again. "We're both so fucking late…! Doesn't your alarm clock ever wake you up, anymore?"

Mika's attempt at changing the subject failed. "How could say you're not afraid? You're a fucking liar!"

"No, I'm not! I'm not afraid of your parents, at all! I know something you don't know."

"Really? What?"

Mika finally stopped running, now that they were at the front of Shibuya High, and he set Nema down. "Yesterday… during lunch hour… I went to your house and asked them for your hand in marriage, Nema!"

"You did WHAT?" Nema felt him press a swift, quick kiss on her mouth and then she chased him into the school, where they ran down the hall.

"You heard me! And when we graduate, you will be all mine!"

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"Nema? Neeeema? You better not be out in Harajuku, again…! It's not even Sunday, yet…!"

It was Raphael… his voice had served to slap Nema out of what would have been the perfect dream. The water in the shower had gone completely cold, now, and she figured she must have been going on her third hour.

Raphael… he should know where Michael had disappeared to, shouldn't he? Nema shut off the water, sneezing before she hastily dried herself off and put on her black skirt, black tank top, and Michael's black button-up shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.

When Nema made her appearance, she noted the shock written all over his face. His icy blue eyes seemed to double in size. Had she really become that much uglier?

It wasn't that she had become uglier, but she had noticeably lost a great deal of her beauty in a few days' time. It was blatantly obvious that she was ill, tired, and even starving. Along with her dripping hair, she looked like a half-drowned mouse straight from a science lab.

It was made very clear that something had gone very, very wrong, and Raphael had the distinct feeling it had a lot to do with Michael – of the lack thereof.

"… So where is he?" Nema asked Raphael. Her voice sounded strained and a bit broken.

Raphael was supposed to know that? The Wind Angel could have sworn that he would still be here, probably training Nema once again. Michael was gone? Raphael wanted to repeat Nema's question back to her. He was as lost as she was. "… I… don't…" Raphael shook his blonde head, holding his hands up helplessly.

No good. At last Nema could feel the Angry Girl coming back, and she scowled and glared with hollow-ruby eyes. "Fucking liar."

Liar? No, he honestly had no idea! "Nema, I'm sorry, I really don't kn-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME!" The half-drowned girl rushed at him, slapped him twice. "WHERE IS HE? WHERE DID THAT FUCKING JERK RUN OFF TO?"

Raphael tried blocking, and after enduring one more blow, he grabbed her wrists. "Nema, I am as shocked as you are!"

"Am I SHOCKED? What is SHOCKED? I thought I'd gone way BEYOND that level… that thing, SHOCKED!" Nema screamed and her wrists flailed as well as they could under Raphael's grasp. She wanted to hit him. Not because he deserved it, but because when she did, he would wince, and maybe cry out in pain, showing her how she felt inside… "WHAT KIND OF CRUEL BASTARD THINKS HE CAN USE A GIRL LIKE THAT AND RUN OFF? HE MUST THINK I DON'T HAVE A HEART TO BREAK! WELL I HOPE HE ROTS IN HELL, THEN! AND ALL OF YOU!" No…! Her body was… God, she was tired.

She collapsed into the arms of Raphael. So much for being the Angry Girl.

When she came to, she was lying on the sofa she'd kicked back into the general center of the living room. A pillow cradled her head and a single blanket covered her body.

"Oh, good, you're awake again." She heard Raphael's voice say. "Drink." He was holding another crystalline bottle to her lips. "No more than two or three sips. You remember what happened last time."

She took the bottle in her cold hands and took three large sips, and then he took the bottle from her. "… Rapha-"

"When was the last time you ate?"

"… What do you care?"

"Nema. I'm asking as a doctor and a friend. When?"

"… Like, three days ago."

Raphael tsked her and held up a bowl of noodles. "Eat."

"… Doushite?"

"Do it."

Nema turned her hopeless red eyes up and met the icy, demanding blue gaze of Raphael's. She reluctantly took the bowl of noodles and began to eat. She'd forgotten how food could taste so good…

"There you go. Now, Nema, how much sleep have you been getting?"

"… I don't know."

"I advise you get plenty of rest for the next few days, and eat plenty of food, too. Drink a lot of tea, and stay away from caffeine. I will check up on you once a day to make sure you're doing this."

"And if I'm not…?"

"I'll make you do it." Raphael said matter-of-factly. "… Nema, when did Michael disappear?"

She stopped. Raphael thought she looked as though she was ready to shut herself down now that he'd asked that dreaded question. But after a long pause, she said in a half-whisper, "… Four days ago."

"I need you to tell me what happened."

Raphael took her noodle bowl away from her, and she seemed to shrink into the blanket she had, like a lost and cold kitten. "… He is gone… The night before he went away… He made love to me, Raphael. He said, 'God, I think I've fallen in love with her…' And now he's gone…" Nema shrank further into the blanket and allowed the material to soak up her tears. "He lied to me… And I have no idea where he is, now…"

Raphael listened to Nema sniffle and cry. A part of him couldn't swallow it. While he knew Nema wasn't playing some elaborate trick on him, it seemed to be against the laws of nature… The idea of Michael doing something like that… saying something like that… and yet, above those things, it seemed backwards for him to leave Nema after doing anything like that. It was against the code of all Guardian Angels to leave their Guarded, as it was, and that seemed to be a part of the code Michael had finally learned to honor.

Or maybe it didn't have to do with the code, anyway. After all, Raphael had noted the changes the last time he had descended into Assiah… some were indistinct, some were noticeable … but the changes were there… Raphael just never thought that Michael would actually give in to something like that. He always thought Michael might keep it bottled up, if not for Nema's safety, then at least for his own sense of pride. How wrong he was.

"… I feel like a whore…"

"You are not a whore. If you were a whore, you'd have sex with everyone you could manage to get your hands on… and if you were a whore, you wouldn't be this torn up about him leaving." Raphael reassured her.

"… You have no idea where he is?"

"No. I'm sorry…" He listened to her choke on a sob. "… Listen… I know that he doesn't mean you harm. Something must be very wrong… A part of the story is missing. I'll try to find it out for you."

"You're sure he isn't this cruel?"

"I know he's not."

"… Were you ever this cruel?"

"Me?" Raphael arched a brow. "… I'll be honest. I used to be."

"… Why?"

The Wind Angel shrugged. "… There were… some scars that hadn't really healed over, properly… Made me think a little recklessly. But… well, I'm better now. Someone helped me… I don't know, someone set the gears in my head the right way."

In spite of the pool of anguish Nema was currently stuck in, she found it in herself to smile. "Someone important to you?"

Raphael couldn't help but smile, himself. He had never spoken to anyone about this before… Michael never would have paid any attention, and he was the only one Raphael felt he could trust with this secret part of his life. "… Do you remember the girl I was with? The last time you saw me? Her name is Barbiel."

"… Her?"

And Raphael nodded. "I love her… very much."

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"Miiiiichael!"

The Angel in question heard his name called from far off, and he turned toward the voice, spewing forth triumphant laughs as the third opponent fall. It was Nema, wiping the few beads of sweat off her snowy brow. She was dolled up in her version of Sunday best: her black, scalloped skirt, her dark red tank top, her dark red mini-crown. Her black boots stood triumphantly as she looked over her shoulder at Michael, and she held up three fingers, showing him the number of opponents beaten.

The opponents were some of his own men, who were foolish enough to challenge her. She not only beat them and beat them smiling, but she beat them wearing a petticoat and a mini-crown. A violent Queen. His violent Queen.

"Kickin' ass, I see!" Michael said proudly, striding up to Nema. "But they are my men. Don't bruise them so badly!"

"What are you gonna do, beat me up for it?" Nema teased, tapping her white fist against his dragon-covered cheek. From her back stretched her two large, white wings… white as snow and white as her hair.

"Wait… what happened to your wings…?" The Fire Angel stopped just short of embracing her, and Nema's hands reached up to cup his face. "… You aren't Fallen, anymore…"

"Why would I be Fallen?" Nema's ruby eyes blinked up at him. "Won't you give me a good morning kiss?"

"A what?"

"Please… No one will care… if you stay here… No one can stop you here… and you can love me… and kiss me… like no one's watching…"

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"… I can't believe this... Michael…"

The Fire Angel stirred, rudely shaken from a dream he would have killed to have gotten lost in. He opened his eyes and there stood Raphael, looking up at him with sad blue eyes. And he knew immediately that Raphael knew what had happened. And so he hung there, suspended by chains, looking at him miserably and yet, blankly, as though he had somehow become empty.

"… Michael, I…" Raphael didn't really know where to start. He never saw this happening… But most importantly, he never really thought Michael would appear to hit such a low.

"Did they tell you… or did she?" Michael said plainly.

"… Nema did. No one in Heaven knows, Michael… Everyone thinks you are still on Assiah."

Michael laughed. It was by no means a cheerful one. "… How badly does she hate me?"

"Nema does not hate you…"

"Fucking bull shit, she doesn't!" Michael laughed harder, his chains shaking.

"She doesn't, Michael! She's angry, but it's not hatred. You know as well as I do that it's just heartbreak."

Michael stopped his laughter and shook his head. "Heartbreak… what a fucking mess I'm in…"

"What I don't understand is why you're in a room like THIS… This is for conspirators against God, not for what you've done."

"Yeah, well Cheriour's a fucking coward and he's afraid I'm gonna burn him to ashes. And damn right, he better be afraid!" Michael hissed. "I swear the second I'm out of here…"

Raphael shushed him. "Listen… I promised Nema I'd figure out what happened with you. She thinks you –"

"Left her. Used her. I hear it every fucking day." Michael grumbled.

"Well now I can tell her the truth." The Wind Angel offered his friend a supporting smile. "At least, as much as I can without letting her know too much. It should be enough to set her mind at ease."

"You'll keep watch for me?"

"As much as I can… I told her I would check up on her once a day. It's all I can afford with all the I-Children I have coming in for my help…"

"That many?"

"Almost too many for me… Once I was tending to a little girl… she made me think of Nema, Michael… she had a broken mini-crown on her head. I asked her why they were all risking their lives to come to me… and she told me, 'If a high-ranking Angel can stain his reputation for us… we can risk our lives for him.'" Michael let a crooked smile cross his features, and Raphael asked, "Is there anything you want to tell Nema?"

"… That I'm fine. That she better take care of herself."

"Anything else?"

The Fire Angel looked down at the Wind Angel. Raphael's eyes were peering into him with that strangely bored face of his, the one that told you deep down he was on to something. "… No." Michael regretted saying that one word as he watched Raphael nod, turn and begin to leave.

"RAPHAEL!"

The Wind Angel turned with an expectant look written all over him.

"… Tell her I love her." Michael couldn't keep eye contact, but Raphael smiled.

"I was going to tell her you said that, whether you really said it or not."

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"It has come to Cheriour-sama's attention that one Raphael-sama is within the building. Raphael-sama, please report to the office of Cheriour-sama right away." A bored voice drawled on the intercom, and the blonde Archangel froze at first, but then turned and made a quick beeline for Cheriour's office. He flung open the door, shut it, and stood impatiently as Cheriour sat behind his desk, looking as icy as ever. The whole goal was to come off angry. And God, Raphael was angry.

Cheriour continued to sit, looking as cold as ever. "… So you have found out Michael-sama's location."

Cheriour thought it would be best to be cold? Raphael could match him easy, and he proved it, putting on his iciest 'you are not worthy' face. "It was fairly easy to figure it out."

"Not that you let Nemaelle know. I suppose that was because you were unsure of whether she should know that I was involved in the matter?"

Raphael's ice blue eyes narrowed. "You sent a spy down?"

"Oh, goodness, no. There would be an opportunity for missed information, you understand." Cheriour gave him a cruel smile. "I have, for some time now, set up a perimeter of cameras with highly sensitive audio pick-up… It is in this way that I caught Michael-sama sinning, you see."

"Good for you." Raphael bit sarcastically.

"It is amazing, the things my cameras can pick up… The most interesting pieces of information, you see."

Cheriour placed a small grey cassette player on his desk, and Raphael stared down at it with the nonchalant face he could pull off with ease. But then Cheriour played the message locked inside.

"… _Do you remember the girl I was with? The last time you saw me? Her name is Barbiel."_

"… _Her?"_

"_I love her… very much."_

The message stopped playing. Cheriour looked up to see that Raphael's eyes had widened just a bit… and then he quickly resumed his icy façade.

"I dare say, this is quite a gem… While there is speculation about your views regarding Rabbits being influenced by personal experience… I had no idea it was because you run the risk of creating a Rabbit with your own head nurse."

"You can't scare me."

"But what I can do is let the information leak throughout Heaven. And upon consideration that the supporters of I-Children are still a very small minority, I can only imagine the uproar when they discover that Heaven's Angel of Healing is committing such a sin."

"I don't care what they think of me."

"But do you care what they'll think of her?"

Raphael glared back coldly.

"… I thought so. You realize that you and your significant other will be branded Fallen and condemned to a life in the slums. You will no longer be the high-ranking Angel you are now… and she will be considered a disgrace and a whore."

"Unless…"

"How smart you are. Of course, there is a catch." Cheriour smiled. "I will spare you… for now… so long as you speak not a word of Michael's location to Nemaelle."

That was absurd… Why should Cheriour care? "… What?"

"I believe I was clearly heard."

"Doushite?" Raphael asked, feeling the despair run through him. This was far too cruel! Why did was this sad excuse for an Angel feel the need to drive Nema down into the deepest depression imaginable?

"I am conducting an experiment, you see. To tell her any of the things you have planned to tell her would sabotage the experiment, and this will not do."

"… That's why you haven't come after her. You're running an EXPERIMENT?"

"Precisely."

"She isn't a lab rat!"

"She is colored as such, and that is good enough for me." Cheriour said plainly.

"… You are sick."

"Will you keep silent for three more days, or shall I let the information leak starting tonight?"

"… Three more days?"

"That is all I ask."

"And then you will probably kill her."

"You are free to attempt stopping me at that time."

Raphael felt like he was trapped in a corner, and he gave Cheriour a hard stare. He did not feel comfortable saying anything.

"… I knew you would comply, Raphael-sama. Thank you very much. You are excused."

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"Three days?"

"Yes. The jerk has ME tied around his little finger!" Raphael hissed as he made a show of looking through papers. Back before Nemaelle even existed, a particular corner of his desk was frequently ornamented with a girl for the day, but now, it was ornamented to Barbiel and Barbiel only. And Barbiel shushed him gently as he sighed and ran his hands through his blonde hair. "… It is only three days, right?"

"… Do you want my honest opinion, Raphael?"

"I always do."

"Go down and tell her everything right now."

"No." The Wind Angel said flatly.

"Yes. Tell her about Michael, where he is and why he's there. You'll have to explain a great deal to her, but she has been left in the dark for too long. At the very least, you need to tell her that Michael loves her!"

"Barbiel, if I do we are RUINED. I'm not talking a slap on the wrist. I'm talking being branded Fallen! No more nice cozy building, Barbiel. A run-down, half-crumbled building if we're lucky. A cardboard box or two is what we'll probably have left!"

"But think of that poor girl –"

"I WILL NOT HAVE YOUR LIFE RUINED!" Raphael yelled, his papers falling in scatter piles on his desk. "I LOVE you, Barbiel."

Barbiel reached over to grip his shaking hand. "… Three days can be a short time or a long one… If Nema is in as bad a shape as you told me she was, I honestly don't think three days of ignorance will help her."

"… There is nothing I can do to fix that. If her heart was literally broken I could put it back together in a snap, but this is purely an emotional ailment. And I'm not a counselor."

"Pray she doesn't slip further into that depression, poor girl…"

Raphael snorted. "Pray. To who? God? That bastard's out to get us all. Michael and I, we knew reprogramming God into the system was a big mistake. Now He's biting the shit out of us."

"If you could rewind time, would you have followed Lucifer into Hell, then?"

Raphael sat back and thought about it. "… I don't mean to scare you, but yes. Yes I would have."


	15. Chapter 15

AUTHORESS NOTE: Look, notes! I'm learning how to be a good writer!

Urusai – Shut up.

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Fifteen_

By: Brenli

On the fifth day Raphael made his visit to Nema's house, equipped with another bottle of the cold medicine (in the unlikely event that Nema would need it), and a heavy heart.

"I think I'm beginning to lose it…" She had told him quietly, as if this were a perfectly rational way of greeting someone.

"Don't talk like that…" Raphael had replied, letting Nema take two sips of the cold medicine, for she, surprisingly, still had a cold. "I know you're hurt… that's no reason to plead insanity."

"No, I honestly think I'm losing it… Last night I began to hear things, Raphael…"

The Wind Angel arched a brow at her, and waited for her to continue.

"Cruel voices… they laugh and say things like 'oh, ugly Rabbit,' and 'kill the Rabbit…' and this morning… I thought it looked like the sheets on my bed where crawling…" Nema looked up at Raphael with tired red eyes. "… Do you think I need to go to the crazy house?"

"You're not going anywhere." Raphael had told her. "Hang in there… I need to go."

"Please don't leave me… The weird things only stopped when you came around."

"Nema, I can't…"

"I need you to keep the trouble away… because he won't, anymore…"

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"She thinks she is going insane, Michael..."

"Sounds like Demons are picking on her…" The Fire Angel said darkly. "Kill them all, for me."

"How could Demons get to her without Cheriour noticing? Wouldn't he do something about it?"

"Are you fucking joking? He probably watches it and laughs. I'll bet the bastard PAYS to get Demons to do this." Michael pulled on his chains again. It was a habit he had formed. He struggled in spite of the fact that he knew he could not break free. "It's that fucking bastard who's insane…! Not her!"

Raphael watched his friend struggle and fume. "… Just two more days… And then I can let her know about you."

"Two days too fucking long! If you didn't say the wrong fucking shit…!" Michael snarled, suddenly hurling his rage at the Angel before him. Just imagine how much better things would have been if only Raphael hadn't been stupid enough to talk about his lucky-in-love self! Damn him for being able to keep his secret for as long as had… Michael's secret didn't even last a damn DAY!

Raphael's icy eyes narrowed under the heated glare Michael sent him. "It's not like I knew I was being recorded! Do you think if I did know, I would've said anything about Barbiel?"

"So? So what? Why would you go off about that shit anyway to her, in that sorry-ass state she's in? Rubbing in that you've got someone and she's got nothing at all?"

"If you ask me YOU are the one who's bitter about who had more time with their significant other, Michael!" Raphael snapped. The Wind Angel watched the angry shock smear itself onto Michael's face, soon shaken off as Michael looked into the far left corner of the room he had been encased in. "… Look, this isn't fixing anything."

"It's not about fixing anything… I just want something to kill…" Michael's voice out quietly, and to Raphael's surprise, brokenly. The last time Michael had ever sounded torn was so long ago… before Nema, and before Setsuna…

"Mika-chan, don't be that hopeless…"

"What the fuck, okay, Raphael? How am I supposed to feel? Happy? Every day I have to hear about how she thinks I've forgotten her… and then you have to come in and tell me she thinks she's going mad… I'm supposed to take that and smile my ass off? Just… fuck you."

Raphael sighed.

"And don't call me Mika-chan."

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The sixth day came around. One more day, and Raphael could finally tell Nema everything she wanted to know. And he would probably have to fight with Cheriour, but he'd do it like Michael would have – fiercely and mercilessly. But as the Wind Angel stepped inside, he quickly forgot about any of this.

It was late in the day when he'd finally found the time to check in on her. He stepped in through the door and was shocked to see that a great deal of Nema's furniture was knocked over. There was a broken glass in the kitchen with a puddle of milk on the floor.

Then he heard the eerie calling of a name. "Miiichael…" It came from down the hall, somewhere.

It was coming from Nema's bedroom.

When he walked in he wanted to pretend what he saw wasn't real. Nema was sitting in a pile of blankets that were piled by her bedside table. About her room were several more blankets, her pillows, and one of the drawers to her vanity. Her lamp was knocked over and broken. "Oh God, what have You done to her?" Raphael whispered under his breath.

Her eyes looked up, glassy and red, through the stray strands of her snowy hair, and her large black wings, almost big enough to make her full-grown, drooped over her body. He noticed that in her tiny hands she had a white rosary wrapped about her fingers, and the Angel Crystal cross sparkled up at him. "… I don't understand… It's broken so many times before… but now he does it… and suddenly I'm a loon?"

"… What's broken?"

"Her heart, that ugly Rabbit heart!"

"URUSAI!" Nema wailed.

The voice that commented on her Rabbit heart came through clear in Raphael's ears. It sounded twisted and demonic, and soon the Wind Angel witnessed one of Nema's vanity drawers leave its correct spot and land in the center of the room. And then not just that one voice, but three voices together, began taunting the poor Rabbit in the room.

"Ugly, weak little Rabbit!"

"Disgusting creature!"

"Kill the Rabbit!"

These words and more were mixed with chilling laughs, and Raphael looked around for the sources of these voices. The Wind Angel watched one leg of Nema's bed lift off the ground and land back down with a loud 'crack', and Nema snatched her alarm clock and threw it out of the window. "URUSAIIIIII!" She screeched, and then she sobbed and crumbled down against her bedside table, holding the rosary against her mouth. "Miiiichael, where are you…?" Her voice cracked and came out creepy-sounding.

Raphael kneeled before her and touched her quivering shoulder. "Nema, shh… the voices are gone." Indeed, the moment she'd thrown out her clock the voices had stopped.

"Can you hear them…? All those fucking voices…!"

"Yes… and that means you aren't crazy, Nema." He reassured her. "Stay here… I'll make the voices go away."

He knew exactly what to do and where to go. While those voices were chilling and cruel, he could not feel a demonic presence anywhere around him. He had a very good idea what was going on. Raphael left Nema's house, turned and went to the side of her house just outside her bedroom window. There, on the roof, sat three Angels, wearing their dark cloaks and playing with what looked like little talismans, each bearing a 'C'.

"Cheriour's been letting you toy with Nema?" Raphael called up, and the three Angels looked down at him with stern faces and jumped to the ground.

The Wind Angel's eyes widened. They were only boys!

"What do you care, Rabbit-lover!" One of the boys spat.

Well, so they were only boys, then. Raphael snatched the talisman from one boy's hand, and a sad excuse for a struggle ensued, yet Raphael stole their talismans easily. And the three boys whined in voices that no longer twisted and turned with demonic tones, but Raphael sent them off. "Tell Cheriour he shouldn't be getting little KIDS caught up in this! You're too young to know what side you should be on!"

But boys will be boys, and they flipped him of and ran away, leaving Raphael with three small talismans in his hand. "Nema!" He called out to her, and he noticed the pale top of her head become visible. "The voices are nothing to worry about. I need you to get some sleep, okay? I will be back tomorrow."

The distressed girl said nothing, but Raphael excused it and went right where he knew he needed to go next.

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"What the fuck are THESE, Cheriour?" The Wind Angel slammed one of the talismans on Cheriour's desk.

"Oh, how did you find these? They are manipulation runes, a torture device. One holds them and can perform telekinesis. One puts the rune in the mouth, and one can disguise the voice to one's liking. If used on a person confined in a room, and with the right timing, it has the most amazing effect. Would you like to see it work?"

"I've already seen it work." Raphael said coldly. "Why are you sending little BOYS out to torture Nema? I thought you were leaving her ALONE for a week!"

"… Well, yes, but it is near the end of seven days… I thought it might be nice to add some more elements to the experiment, and I must say I am fonder of the results." Cheriour gave Raphael another icy smile.

"Add more elements…?" The Wind Angel scowled at Cheriour. "You've gone against what you said you would do!"

"I do not recall giving myself any limits. I remember limiting only you."

"This is BULL SHIT, Cheriour."

"What a dirty mouth you have! Has Michael-sama influenced you?"

"Maybe he has. You won't mind if I add my OWN fucking elements to your experiment, will you?"

Cheriour's icy smile dropped. "… Is that a threat, Raphael-sama?"

"Take it how you want to. Six days is close enough to seven. Excuse me while I take a trip back down to Assiah. I have information for Nema."

"And I have information for all of Heaven." Cheriour watched Raphael freeze, his hands in tight fists. "It is easy to say you'll do one thing if you forget the consequences of the behavior considered, is it not?"

"… It's been SIX LONG DAYS, Cheriour."

"And six is not seven. Wait until the end of the seventh day and you will never have to worry about your reputation, and if Nemaelle is still alive, you may tell her all you wish to say."

Cheriour watched Raphael shaking in carefully restrained anger, but then he exploded and slammed his fist into Cheriour's desk.

"… Did that make you feel better, Raphael-sama?"

Raphael shook his head, disgusted with Cheriour. "… I will go see Michael before I leave today."

"Very well. Try not to stay for long."

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"Michael!" Raphael quickly entered and marched up to the hanging Archangel before him.

"Raphael… I think I'm going nuts too… Go tell Nema I'm losing marbles with her…"

"What?"

Michael tried pointing to his head, though his arm was chained high in the air. "I keep hearing her in my head…"

"She's praying to you through that rosary she has. I'm making this quick, listen up." Raphael pressed a talisman into Michael's palm and began to speak in as low a whisper as he could make. Michael had to read his lips to fully understand. "I'm going to take you down for a visit tomorrow. You can tell Nema, in the flesh, how much you care."

A sudden smile flashed across the Fire Angel's lips, though he seemed tired and worn from the days hanging in his crystal prison. "It's about fucking time!"

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Seven days. Nema had endured a full week of this personal Hell… locked away in an empty home, longing for a cruel man who never came to her… taunted by things out to catch her sanity.

The hours ticked by. The voices were gone. Sure enough, Raphael had taken them away. And yet it did not cure the lonely, fed-up betrayal spreading outward from her bleeding heart.

She waited and she waited. At noon she received a phone call, but she let it the answering machine pick it up.

"Sweetie! It's Mom. Our flight's been delayed and we won't be back until tomorrow. Just letting you know. Hope you're feeling better! We love you."

Her parents were such kind people. Oftentimes, she would admit to herself, she did not give them the credit they deserved. But even giving them such credit would not make herself feel any better about the downward spiral of events that formed her life.

Sixteen years. A long time, though it felt so short… Nema looked down at her right forearm, the cross-shaped scar hard to see against the paleness of her flesh.

Twelve years. She had been twelve years of age when she had marred her porcelain skin. The span of her life had been shorter, then, and yet she let the sharp blade of her fabric scissors kiss her flesh and bring forth the blood that she often thought didn't even exist within her body.

She remembered the feeling of it leaving her… and it really felt, at the time, like her blood was taking everything else away, too. The sidelong stares. The half-concealed whispers. But best of all, it took away the feeling of cruel, cold hands holding her body down, and the icy voice whispering, "For now and ever you are marked by the hand of God, little bunny girl…! Cry like the whore you will forever be…!"

Four years since then. She had bled, but she hadn't bled enough. And so here she was, allowing herself to endure more moments in her life.

Nema looked at the neatly rolled letter she had tied with a single, white bow. White on white. Nothing but white. Well, the ink was red.

She checked the clock. Already it was late in the evening, and still no Raphael. He was probably going to drop in at night, then, like he had last time. Well, Nema would not wait for him…

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After seven days of being locked up, Michael had picked out a definite pattern in the routine of guards. Cheriour, smug as he was, only came in to watch Michael through his safe observation window when he decided to report on Experiment 36040, Mudou Nemaelle. A guard came once in the morning, once mid day, and one accompanied Cheriour in the evening for the report. There were double doors directly beneath the observation booth, and Michael assumed that there was a pair of guards at constant watch at these doors.

Not that Michael cared. He wasn't planning on leaving through those doors.

After the morning guard came and went, Michael gripped the talisman in his hand and began to manipulate the Angel Crystal, first. There was a camera hiding somewhere… one of the corners. Before the midday guard came he found it, but he didn't do anything to it until that guard did his quick watch and ran off. Once that happened, the Fire Angel set the camera on fire and watched with glee as it fell to the ground. Now, if only using these stupid rocks were that easy…! He had a feeling it was just the fact that Angel Crystal, by nature, is stubborn.

Well, now he really had to get to work. Covering the observation window was a thin, but effective, coat of Angel Crystal. Michael had only to move the Angel Crystal down and out, and he would not only lock the doors, but leave nothing but a thin sheet of normal glass between him and the observation booth. Unlock his chains, bust through the glass, and get the fuck out of there before Cheriour could do shit. Then he was free.

The hours seemed to crawl as Michael gripped the talisman and worked at moving the Angel Crystal. … Shit! The door to the booth was opening! No way the whole day had gone by, already!

"Oh, it's you! What the fuck took you so long?" Michael greeted Raphael as he stepped forth and lifted the hood of a black cloak away from his head.

"I think it's insulting that everyone here believes I really am Cheriour." The Wind Angel said crossly, and unlocked the giant observation window, sliding it open. "Come on. No busting the glass."

"I busted the camera, why not the glass?"

"Because you NEED to bust the camera. You don't NEED to bust the glass. Now come on, before someone comes up here and we're both done for!"

The Fire Angel used the talisman to unlock his chains, and he flew up to the window and quickly scurried through it. "What does it matter, Raphael? I'm not coming back!"

The Wind Angel was silent.

"… I'm not."

"… You're gonna have to."

Michael's blue-green eyes narrowed. "… Why?"

"Think about it. If you don't come back, they'll come after you, me, Nema, and Barbiel."

"I am NOT going back in there, Raphael!"

"Okay, look, Mika-chan –"

"Michael."

"Michael. Okay, look. I'm putting… a LOT at risk so you can see Nema just once. I'm going to devise some kind of plan for your sake, but I'm not getting enough time. I'm just doing this to clear Nema's head for you, Michael. And maybe, if Cheriour shows up, we can kill him together, and if that happens, then EVERYTHING is magically okay. But if he doesn't show, and you don't go back, you know that we four will be hunted down and murdered. I can make a plan, I swear it… but I need more time."

Michael threw on a black cloak of his own, and with their heads hiding under dark hoods, they calmly walked out of the booth, down a narrow flight of stairs, into the prison halls, and out of jail.

"I don't see what you're so fucking worked up about. Nema's fine, I'm fine, you're fine. And even though she hasn't fought in a while, you and I BOTH know Barbiel's trained. She can take care of herself, too!"

"… It's not… her… that I'm worried about."

"Then what the fuck are you so… Holy shit." Michael looked up at his friend from under the heavy, dark hood of his cloak.

Raphael continued to walk on quickly, as though he hadn't mentioned a thing.

"… Is she REALLY…"

"I wouldn't LIE about something like that."

"… How far is she?"

"She says it's probably a week or so."

They were silent until they were both soaring through Assiah's thick, raining clouds, getting closer and closer to Tokyo, and to Nema. "… Congratulations." Michael said as the hood of his cloak fell back.

And though the worry in Raphael's blue eyes shone through, he smiled. "… Thanks. Things will get interesting when Barbiel begins to show… but thanks. I'm happy in spite of the trouble I'm in."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

She took the walk slow. She knew that in spite of its black-and-white point of view, the world had things that could be considered beautiful.

It had just finished raining. Her boots stepped into cold water as she progressed forward, smelling the freshness of the air.

There it was. Turn down the alleyway right there.

It was the building just before Nema's former school, Shibuya Senior High. It was one of many anonymous business buildings, tall, impersonal. Nema had assumed that she could fly to the top, but she stood, and she stared, and she could not will her wings to come forth. They were being stubborn, like they always were, never showing up of her own free will.

Fine, then. She'd go in and take the elevator up.

There. Right at the top. Nema stood at the edge and looked down. Cold, impersonal concrete, just like this cold, impersonal building. Yet it welcomed her. She turned her head to the right and looked upon the ruined, semi-cleared area that used to be her school, and she whispered, "Sayonara."

And then Nema looked up at the sky for one last time. It was gray, and cloudy, yet it held a sad beauty all its own. And she allowed the toes of her boots to take half-steps forth and hang off the edge. "Sayonara," she whispered to the sky, closed her ruby eyes, and began to take a graceful fall into her ending…

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Nema's suicide attempt came to an abrupt end as her pale body was captured by two arms and pulled back against a chest. Her rescuer was squeezing her tightly, the biker glove-covered hands trembling in a mix of shock, rage, sadness.

Right when she believed Michael would never come back… he ran in to save her, like her long lost Angel, coming down to be her hero…

Too good to be true. Her heart felt like it was shattering in all its happiness, and for the thousandth time she cried, but her tears were by no means out of despair. Not anymore.

"Jumpers are weak, too, damn you…! Fucking weak…!" Michael hissed, but his breath came out shaky, and his embrace tightened just slightly. She was wearing his shirt over her dark red tank top and her black, scalloped skirt, her dark red mini-crown cocked off to the left, like she always had it. It was like his dream, but sadder, so much sadder.

Nema would've laughed if her heart wasn't still so heavy. "… What took you so long? You better make it up to me…!"

"How about you NOT DIE and give me the CHANCE to make it up to you!" Michael's voice cracked. "He'd condemn you to Hell… Don't make me have to go down there and beat up shit to save you! … I'll beat you up, too, if you do!"

Finally Nema laughed, though it was quiet and even sounded foreign in her tight throat. "… Are you… crying?"

And the great Archangel shook his head, but she felt the drip of an uncontrolled tear fall onto her shoulder. "… Do you think you are the only one in pain?" He asked simply.

Raphael watched the sorrowful couple begin to take steps backwards, away from the danger of the edge. Did he have to break this up…? This reunion full of solace, one week late? How much longer could he let them linger? If he had no lover to think of, no future child to consider, he would go home. Let them hide together in their cocoon, and he would help fend off any who dared to ruin this sorry couple. For the first time Michael wasn't trying too hard to be cruel… for the first time, he seemed to be fine with showing he possessed a heart. Did Raphael need to break this apart?

The Wind Angel let them stand there, speaking to each other in half-whispers, Michael refusing to let her go… Nema not caring that he wouldn't let go. Did Michael even realize that Raphael was still there?

"It's time to go…" Raphael said, the shame apparent in his voice.

Michael nearly squeezed the stuffing out of Nema, his prized possession, and glared angrily at his friend. "I WANT FIVE FUCKING MINUTES! FIVE!"

"It's almost midnight… If you don't go back soon, we're done for." Raphael said warily.

"… You have to go…" Nema whispered.

"You'll be fine; your parents are coming back, right? And Raphael will see ya once a day. And I'll see if I can sneak out again. And if Raphael figures out a master plan I'll be back to stay. So there." The Fire Angel listed off reasons for Nema to continue smiling.

"… Where are you going?" She asked quietly.

"This stupid jail place-"

"JAIL place?"

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Mika-chan, you have one minute…" Raphael interjected, feeling like a jerk.

"Don't call me Mika-chan!"

"Michael, come on!" The Wind Angel was getting nervous.

"God dammit…" Michael swore under his breath, brushed the lightest, quickest of kisses over Nema's pale cheek. "I love you. Don't forget that." He said the words hurriedly, maybe even bashfully, yet there was an honesty Nema picked up on immediately, and she smiled for once in a long, horrible week.

He let her go and walked back to Raphael, and Nema turned.

From not only Michael's back, but Raphael's, as well, stretched broad, snowy white wings, soft yet strong and grand. Her red eyes widened as she stared at them in their black cloaks, dripping with the rain that had started up again, and Michael shook the water droplets off of his pale feathers. He didn't look over his shoulder at her, yet she wondered if he, too, was recalling the number of times he had denied having the wings he did, indeed, own.

"Be careful, Nema," Raphael warned, "You are in a bigger mess than you think… Go home right away. We'd escort you…"

"… But time's short." Nema finished for him, pulling her white rosary out of her pocket and wrapping the beads around her fingers. "I understand."

Without another word, they left her. They appeared to be flying off to the west… though she wasn't even sure if that meant anything. The rain fell over her, and it wasn't long before Nema was drenched.

Still there were endless questions left for the poor girl kept in the dark, but she would not let them bother her. She knew not where Michael was being kept, but he'd found a way to her, and most importantly… he did seem to care, after all. That was enough for the girl kept in the dark. Enough for now.

Nema, dripping in rain, began to leave.

But to no avail.

They came from up high and from down low, black cloaks and white wings, though they did not have the same hospitality that Raphael and Michael readily gave her.

"… Look, a Rabbit caught in the rain. Cheriour would like to see this!"

"His loss. We'll just have to take care of it, for him."

Nema was surrounded from all sides, and though she tried to find a break in the ring to beat through, she was quickly caught around the arms and pulled back into the center, where she was observed like weak prey caught in the pack of wolves.

Where was Michael, now? Was he so far away, already? Nema wanted to scream for her poor luck, but she kept her cool, meeting their evil eyes with her red, angry gaze.

"Michael-sama never learns, does he? But Cheriour will let him slide if we bring back this corpse! He will definitely want your feathers. Or maybe he will stuff you?"

"Can you believe he has a thing for this pale little thing? A Rabbit! What poor taste!"

They sniggered at Nema, and the struggled to break the hold on her arms...

"Certainly can't keep still, can you? Give up. You are nothing compared to us…" The Angel restraining her hissing into her ear, "And Michael-sama isn't here to save you…"

"Some Guardian Angel!"

At last, she was just free enough! Nema promptly elbowed her restrainer in the chest, smiling with her violent glee as he fell back, the wind knocked out of him. And the ring of Angels closed in on her, and she struggled and fought the many bodies coming at her. Why weren't her wings on her side? What wouldn't she give to fly away from them?

"The BITCH! GET HER!" Her restrainer coughed. She had nearly broken through the ring of Angels, but was caught cruelly by her ankles and pulled back in. Her restrainer entered the circle and sneered down at her. "I see why Michael-sama likes you! He must like bitches!"

"I don't know she certainly wasn't acting bitchy when he got lucky!"

Nema froze and felt her blood run cold. What? They knew? How did they…

"Why so shocked, Rabbit? We saw you! We saw that sorry excuse for an Angel screw you!"

"So did you like getting fucked by an Angel? Would you like to go at it again?"

Never! Not with THEM! Nema struggled and kicked as she felt Michael's shirt get pulled down her arms. Her skirt tore as she finally got back onto her feet. No good! Arms from all sides her trying to capture her, tear at her, rape her! No, she wouldn't endure that kind of pain again! Where was Michael, now? The frightened tears blinded Nema, but she flailed and ran where she could.

"Hold still so we can do you, bitch!"

It all happened so fast. She thought she might give out soon, and there was no Michael to save her! She'd push, push away from all of them, and she'd run, oh God she'd run!

She pushed. She felt the wet air flow by her. She saw him, finally, but oh so late.

"Neeemaaaaaa!" She heard him yell. And she fell off the edge of the cold, cruel building. She felt air. She held her hand up to him, but time was not on her side.

She landed. A car alarm in her ears. The feeling of beaten metal forming a pathetic cushion for her fall. Heat at the back of her head. Blood.

She saw Michael's wide green eyes and watched with half-dazed glee as Michael set the building and its Angel inhabitants on fire. She thought she saw Raphael arriving too late.

And then she saw nothing at all.


	16. Chapter 16

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Sixteen_

By: Brenli

_To whoever loved me:_

_I have never considered myself to be a strong person; therefore, I cannot say that I am surprised by my decision. Nor have I gone around trying to make a show of being a strong person, so I hope that my decision does not come across as devastating…_

"Nema!" The Fire Angel landed on the hood of the demolished car, his hands cradling the pale, still face. The blood pooled at the back of her head and ran in small rivers through the cracks of the beaten metal. It seeped into the knees of his pants, but he did not care, as he stared deep into the blood-red eyes that stared at nothing.

_I will not become a sour, melodramatic girl, and shout to you, "GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD," for I know that this world is not cruel, but rather lost and confused, and it hates only what it cannot understand. The world fails to understand me, so this hatred that I am subjected to is something to be expected. But it cannot be expected that I would want to bear such a burden…_

"Michael, move, move! I can fix this!" Raphael said hurriedly as he scrambled up next to the Fire Angel, and Michael quickly moved away to let Raphael perform his Holy Gift. "Come on… Come on, Nema… This won't work if you don't want it… Come on… Michael is waiting for you…"

_I know I cannot stop the tears of my parents… All I yearn for is for them to realize that they have done nothing wrong. They made me, a child loved between them, raised in a household based on love. It is merely the fault of society that made this love a strange thing. By all means, if society is not considered, I would be willing to believe that I have received more love from my home than many other people…_

The growing fire and the continuing car alarm caught the attentions of people, and soon a crowd formed. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" Michael hissed. "LEAVE US ALONE!"

_Please know that as I make my trip into a land of death, I am not going to trouble myself with thoughts of the things the world flung at me while I lived. I will not reflect on the cold stares, cruel whispers (sometimes shouts), the rape, or the abandonment of the one who put my heart in his cage. These are things I have thought about long enough…_

Soon the police had gotten involved, and they approached the two Angels who had already hidden their wings. "Please step away from the scene. We are professionals. We will handle the situation." A sheriff said smoothly.

"HANDLE THIS!" The Fire Angel promptly punched the poor sheriff, and a shocked Raphael had to grab Michael and run from pursuing police, leaving Nema lying there, a dead shell of the girl she once was, while firefighters worked to get rid of the flames licking the building, and onlookers fulfilled their subconscious need to see blood.

_As I die, I will be thinking of the good things in life. The sky. The way the air smells after it rains. Fabric running through my fingers. The pride that comes with finishing a new skirt, dress, or mini-crown. Harajuku "solo parades," as Mom liked to call them. Mother's cooking. Father's smile and (over)protective tendencies. And the more recent joys in my life… Bickering with Michael, training with Michael (sorry about the broken stuff, Mom and Dad), Harajuku "nighttime brawling" (Michael-SAMAAA knows what those are)… whenever Michael's eyes go blue… and the words, "God, I think I've fallen in love with her."_

"Is this the house of Mudou Nemaelle?"

"… Yes…" Setsuna said, tired and distraught from the messy house. He was too tired to realize that the car outside was a cop car, and that the man talking to him was a detective with a policeman behind him.

"Are you a relative?"

"Her father."

The detective put on his most carefully constructed, impersonal yet caring mask, and said, "I regret to inform you that Mudou Nemaelle is –"

"Dead!" Sara suddenly sobbed from the kitchen, and she appeared holding Nema's suicide note, written in red ink, no longer tied with a white bow.

_I know that I cannot stop the natural human responses to death. I know you might cry, or react in rage, or you may become so blank, one will question your humanity. No matter how you may take it, I want you to smile for me. Think not of the Angry Girl with scars on her arms. Please remember the happier parts of the albino seamstress, as I have left remembering the better parts of all of you._

"My goodness, Michael-sama, what a show you offered me!" Cheriour replied coolly to the once-again enslaved Archangel before him, from the safety of Angel Crystal-coated glass. "A marvelous way to end an experiment. Is there anything you would like to say, which I may record in the conclusion of the experiment?"

"I hope you rot in Hell." Michael hissed.

Cheriour only smiled. "Is that so? Raphael-sama was right to sneak you back in here, though it was obvious you had run off. As you have returned, I will not release the information regarding his involvement with Barbiel. I considered banning Raphael-sama from any further visits, but I thought you might like to know that instead, I will have all visits heavily monitored. And as for Nemaelle, well, now, you will live on. Love is an unnecessary emotion, and before long, you will have forgotten her and anything to do with that emotion, love."

"… Fuck you."

_I have only two requests. Should Park Jinho ever try contacting me, please tell him that I passed on happily, ready to start over from scratch, and that I will miss him. Should Michael ever attempt reaching me, tell him these same things, but add that I love him, and that I forgive his cruelty, even now. _

A very broken Setsuna opened the door, the very day after Nema's death. It was the same detective, and though he had only seen him for the second time, now, he was already sick of him. "Yes?"

"Mudou-san… I have some disturbing news…"

Sara's head popped up from behind Setsuna's shoulder, her eyes red and puffy. "What news?"

"We took the body in for examination last night… however, this morning it seems the body has gone missing."

Both parents froze, and the poor detective could only fidget. "… What?"

_With all my love in life and in death,_

_Nema_

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Black. Emptiness. And the incessant hot, sharp, stinging pains in the back of her head. Was Nema doomed to feel this for eternity? Was this death? Damn, she wished she hadn't fallen down.

Many hours ago, Nema could have sworn she felt hands pressing against her face. She thought she heard Michael's voice. Then Raphael's. And for a second, she felt a much more gentle warmth… the darkness was becoming lighter, and for a moment, she thought she might be pulling through. And then it was gone and she was stuck in the dark, detached from her body.

At first words come through coherently. "Did you like getting fucked by an Angel? … Some Guardian Angel!" These two quotes in particular were very clear to her. And she could not help but think that there was no way that HE was indeed her Angel. Or he would have been there before… like he was now. But then the words became fuzzy… something about Angels and sex in general… then it was just something about Angels… then it was nothing at all.

For a long time she was in a black void, paralyzed in her death. Nothing to keep her company but the pain in the back of her head. A lonelier existence than life…

"This must be the one…" A voice suddenly joined her. "Doll, have you prepared the body?"

"This is the only one, Uriel-sama… It's not a bit like what her real body must have looked like."

"It is the doll her mother once inhabited. It will do. It is ready?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Thank you."

Then the darkness became lighter, but to her dismay, there was no gentle warmth. Instead there was a flood of pain, as though she was once again landing and dying, landing and dying…! No comfort at all! It all flowed through her, too many faces, too many things to remember! She was an ugly little Rabbit, running from the hunt; there was no sanctuary no matter where she ran!

"MIIIIIIICHAEL!" Her body flew up, lost breath, fell down, and the world went dark again.

"URIEL-SAMA!" The voice of the one she believed as called Doll screamed.

The darkness was becoming lighter again…! And the pain!

"Why is this so difficult? I am causing her pain. This has never happened before…"

"Is it because she was an I-Child?"

"Doubtful. There is something she is clinging on to. She wants to see Michael."

"Where is he?"

"Raphael has told me he is currently under arrest. There is no way I can summon him."

"Then she will remain in pain?"

"Sadly so, Doll. Until she is finally trapped inside."

Trapped inside…? Trapped inside what?

"Almost there…"

Almost WHERE?

"Uriel!" It was Raphael's voice, coming to join her. Would he bring joy or pain to this?

"Raphael…! Don't tell me you…"

She heard something being laid beside her. "Stealing a dead body is hard work, did you know that? But I did it."

"So my services are no longer needed, then?"

"I have another favor to ask of you. But first let's tend to this." Nema could hear Raphael unwrapping a bundle of some kind… a body, apparently.

The voice belonging to Uriel said, "Very well, I shall remove her from this body. It will be a great mercy for her…"

"EWWWWWW! HER BRAINS, URIEL-SAMA! YOU CAN SEE HER BRAINS!" The one called Doll squealed in disgust. Well, if Nema saw brains, too, she probably would have been disgusted as well, and yet, she wanted to see. She struggled to open what she assumed were her new eyes and tried to turn her head, but she felt strong hands take hold of her face and force her to look into the blurred eyes of a tanned man.

"It would be in your best interest if you did not look." His mouth never moved, but the voice came from him. How was he doing that?

Then everything went black again.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Oh, she is finally reawakening…"

"Oh, good! Nema! Hey!" Raphael snapped his fingers before her eyes, and very slowly, the ruby eyes slid open and squinted from the light shining down on her. "Nema, how do you feel?"

Nema rolled onto her side, feeling the blanket she had been wrapped up in sticking to the back of her head. The dried blood was acting like glue. "I feel like shit…"

"Well… it's better than feeling like you're dead, I guess…" A sweatdrop dripped down Raphael's brow.

Suddenly Nema flinched and flung herself off what appeared to be a table she had been laid on, pointing at the doll next to her. "What the fuck? It looks like my mom!"

"Whoa, now. Nema, calm down."

The tanned man stepped toward her, and Nema shrank back. He was… HUGE. Taller than Raphael, and she'd always considered him a giant. And here she was… she was even smaller than Michael, and she was standing before them! In spite of his height, he had the countenance of a surprisingly gentle man, and he smiled, his voice flowing from around him, not his mouth. "The doll you see once held your mother's soul, for a short time. It was made in her image. If you had remained in the doll long enough, it would have formed the features you normally possess."

Nema turned her wide red eyes back to the doll. Yes, indeed, it looked like a spitting image of her own mother, though at a much younger age.

"You realize that sheet's still stuck to your head?" A girl said. Nema's eyes got even wider, if that were possible. The girl was dressed as a maid, with long, curly black hair… and she, too, had Sara's face!

"Who the fuck are you?" Nema flinched as the girl pulled the bloodstained sheet away from her.

"I'm Doll. Who… the fuck… are you?" The girl asked, trying out the swear word as though she had never used it before, or as if she'd never heard it used in such a context. "Ewwwww… I'm gonna go wash this…"

Nema watched her leave, and then exploded. "Okay, what the FUCK is going on here? Who was that, who are you, and Raphael, what the Hell just happened?"

"Um… you know, I really need to go… Uriel is better at explaining things, anyway…"

"WHAT?"

"Uriel, you take care of this for me? I'll be right back!"

The tall, dark man called Uriel arched a brow and watched Raphael disappear. "… Well, I guess I don't have much of a choice."

Nema began to shrink back again as this mysterious man who could speak without moving his lips took two steps toward her. He motioned with his hand back to the table.

"Please sit. There is a great deal to talk about."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Mika-chan! Mika!" Raphael rushed in.

"Hey, shut up!" Michael yelled, and the Wind Angel froze until Michael motioned for him to come closer.

"Cheriour says he's got this place heavily monitored. You don't wanna come running in here saying the wrong shit." The Fire Angel said in whisper.

"Good warning." Raphael returned in the same quiet tone. "Listen, I have good news regarding Nema."

"… You do?" Michael arched a red brow.

"I do. It was hard, but I took her body."

"You resurrected her?" He tried to keep the joy from being visible to hidden cameras, but it was easily evident in his voice.

"I did, but it was hard. I didn't know if I'd get to the body, so I arranged for Uriel to try putting her soul in a doll. But I stole her body in time. Nema isn't an easy person to revive, Michael, so let's hope she doesn't go falling off buildings again."

"She better not. Where is she now?"

"In Hades, with Uriel."

"He'll let her stay there?"

"I haven't asked yet. I'm sure he will. You and I both know he's a softie." Raphael smiled. "I wanted to let you know it's not all lost. I don't know when you're getting out of here… But when you do, Nema will be waiting."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"… So my parents are Angels, then?" Nema asked quietly.

"Yes, and therefore you are branded Fallen at your birth and deemed an Improper Child." Uriel said calmly, reaching out indicate one of Nema's large, black wings. They were so large, she was clearly at the peak of her power, a full-grown Angel, though all other physical appearances remained unchanged. "It seems that the trauma from your death was the necessary push. You have gained full access to your power as an Improper Child, which is a lot more powerful than many I-Children themselves believe they can be. Yet I see that your body is still quite young."

"… Is that a problem?"

"No problem, but an interesting thing. When did you begin gaining your power?"

Nema had to sit back and think about that, no longer feeling threatened by this giant Angel before her. "… A few months ago, maybe?"

Uriel's green eyes widened as he stroked his chin. "… I see. Nemaelle, most full-grown Angels do not take the form of adolescents. They become young adults, perhaps around the early 20's, comparing it to human lifespans."

"… What are you trying to say? I'm even freakier than usual?"

"No, not too strange. If you harness your powers at an abnormally quick rate, an Angel's physical growth is halted to help the body deal with the astral power. If you were only given a few months in Assiah's time, then this effect is definitely expected. But you must realize that this means you will never look any older than you do now. You will forever be 16. The only one other than Michael to experience this."

Nema's ears picked up Michael's name. "Michael?"

"Yes, your Guardian Angel… He is the official War Angel by rank and the Elemental Fire Angel by birth… a wild man, I'm sure you know… a very angry person."

Nema couldn't really swallow it, at first. "He is my…"

"He was assigned to be your Guardian Angel on the day of your birth." Uriel said plainly, though a sympathic disappointment echoed in his deep green eyes. "He was against the idea, though I know that fact will hurt you… I am only being honest. Michael is not one to care for other people, you see… ever since the first War between Heaven and Hell, Michael has been a very basic, primal person. Taking only what he wants, for himself. It makes sense, in a way, though it is a cold way to live life… Nema… are you listening to me?"

Nema was wishing that she wasn't listening. She stared at the dried bloodspots on her black skirt, and she nodded silently.

"… He was charged by God to watch over you on Assiah when the Rabbit Hunting began. It is to my understanding that he has begun to change around you…" Uriel tried throwing in that small bit of hope.

"… He wasn't there… for a lot of things, Uriel."

"… Yes. Yes, I realize this." The Earth Angel said quietly, and then Raphael walked in.

"Okay, I'm back." The Wind Angel said, looking pleased with himself. "Nema, I want you to know I talked to Michael. He knows you're okay."

"… Hmm."

Raphael frowned. That simple guttural sound that expressed detachment… What was wrong NOW? "Nema?"

"… I need to get a different set of clothes."

"Oh, yes. Doll," Uriel said to his loyal maid as she reentered, carrying the freshly washed and dried sheet, "Could you please take Nema to your room and let her borrow one of your dresses?"

"Sure." Doll chirped smiling at Nema tucking the clean sheet under her arm, motioning for Nema to follow her. Nema trailed after Doll, looking lost in thought, and Raphael frowned at the pale girl as she left.

"… What did you tell her?" The Wind Angel asked Uriel.

"Everything she wanted to know." Uriel shrugged his shoulders. "She's upset about Michael and his… not quite so perfect treatment of her as a Guardian Angel."

"… What are you talking about?"

"His tendency to neglect her."

Raphael blinked rapidly. "You TOLD her about that?"

"She needed to know, Raphael. She was going to find out at some point. If you ask me, she should have been told a long time ago."

"She would have been ANGRY if that had happened!"

"And she isn't angry now?"

Raphael looked at the Earth Angel crossly, though he knew that the words rang true. "… Michael really does care about her, Uriel. You haven't seen it… it's like if she is involved, he doesn't need to burn something to feel whole."

"You are afraid that by angering her, I've ruined their relationship." Uriel said plainly.

"… I don't know."

"Well, let me ask this question. Does she love him?"

"As crazy as that decision would be, I would say she is."

"Then she will forgive him. Love has a strange way of making forgiveness easier to access."


	17. Chapter 17

AUTHORESS NOTE: To quell any rumors that may (or may not) have sprung up in light of the sudden drop in my updating: 

1.) I'm NOT dead.

2.) I HAVE NOT lost the motivation for this story. This story is my BABY. I love it so much I affectionately call it "Impy."

3.) I HAVE, however, started my winter quarter at community college. I am also two weeks behind in my Astronomy schoolwork, and I work all weekend... I DO have Fridays off of school and my job, but it's important to note that I HAVE A BOIFURENDO (BOYFRIEND) and I only see him ONCE A WEEK (on Friday). The injustice of the situation is sickening. I feel like how Mika probably feels all chained up in that room and not able to see Nema. Only I'm not a guy. And I'm not nearly as hotheaded as he is.

So please understand that though my updates are going to be spaced further apart, I HAVE NO INTENTION OF QUITTING. QUITTERS ARE WEAK.

ON WITH THE SHOW!

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Seventeen_

By: Brenli

Nema flipped through a large book bound in brown leather as she sat against the wall of what must have been the largest library ever made. For a week, now, she had been here in Hades, home of Uriel. While she made it a point to take up swordplay, she mostly dueled with Raphael if he stopped in. She dueled with Uriel once, and while she found him to be a talented… and sometimes frightening… opponent, the very core of his nature was gentle and peaceful. He did not wish to train her in any violent art form, so she spent most of her time in his enormous library, sitting against the wall in a carbon-copy of Doll's gray maid uniform, and reading.

What did she read? Anything and everything regarding Heaven and Hell and anything in between. She'd made it a point to keep a book about a Messiah so coincidentally named Mudou Setsuna. She'd marked out chapters about all of this, and if she ever made it back to Assiah, she'd make her parents explain themselves.

… Well, she understood well enough why they would want to keep things like this a secret. It might have been a part of their lives they didn't look back on so fondly, yet Nema still felt cheated. There were so many connections she had never registered! She remembered the close family friend who went by the name of Katou… for years he was in and out of rehab for his drug problems, yet she had always received letters from him… as it turned out, he was her father's SHADOW? And then there was "Auntie" Kurai, who always gave her the most beautiful gifts of jewelry… her parents had always said she was rich like royalty… Lies! She really WAS royalty!

But perhaps the most shocking realization of all… was about her "Uncle" Kira. Out of the close family friends her mother and father had, he was her favorite. Though they only contacted each other through letters, she'd quickly formed a family bond with him, and he became a sort of confidante. He'd even offered written words of comfort when Jinho had moved away…

But he was more than her surrogate uncle. And he was more than Sakuya Kira, the close family friend. He was the Devil himself.

And the Devil had a brother…

It suddenly clicked. So THAT was why Michael had been out to kill his brother… he'd been charged with the task of casting him out of Heaven! As for Bal, all she could find on her was that she was once caretaker of both Michael and Lucifer, and that she had become the Satan of Wrath after she died, Balbero. Rumor had it she had died once again, though she couldn't find out how.

Today she had found a large book regarding the Angel Hierarchy, and it seemed that there were extensive articles on the head of each class. They also had a chapter on the Elemental Angels, and there they were, listed by name, rank, and even activity. Only one was listed as "inactive," and it was Jibril, the Water Angel… who was actually the soul of her own mother.

Nema read through the chapter, absorbing the information… the reason why Jibril was living as Mudou Sara until the time of her death… why Uriel was unable to talk like everyone else… and then she found the information on Michael listed last.

_The Elemental Fire Angel was created as the younger brother of a set of twins, the older brother being Lucifer, born as Lucifiel. It was prophesized that out of these twins, one would turn against God, while the other, acting in God's favor, would banish the sinful twin from the Gates of Heaven. It was wrongly prophesized that Lucifiel was God's Chosen, and many believed that Michael would become blasphemous even as a young child. The true prophecy was carried out when Lucifiel changed his Holy name and rebelled against God. Since this time, Michael has been widely revered as the War Angel as well as the Fire Angel._

_Michael is a mysterious figure who is only active in times of war. He is never present at government meetings and rarely turns in opinions on important matters. When he is spoken of, his intense bouts of rage are first mentioned. It is believed that he is a very bitter Angel and has the capacity to care for very few, if anyone. It is believed that he is a very selfish character and would rather spend time alone than help anyone, the only exception being if he can start a war._

_In recent developments, he was assigned as a Guardian Angel to the offspring of Water Angel Jibril and Mudou Setsuna (reincarnate of Organic Angel Alexiel), a girl officially named Mudou Nemaelle. It is believed that he was highly against this position. According to rumor, he neglects his duties as Guardian Angel in the pursuit of other hobbies…_

"What'cha reading?"

Nema closed the book with a snap, keeping her place with her thumb. "Nothing!" She looked up to see Doll bent over her, smiling widely.

"That's a big nothing!" Doll plopped down next to her and took the book from Nema, opening it up where Nema had left off. "… Oh, you're reading about HIM?" Her face scrunched up in disapproval.

"What's wrong with reading about HIM?" Nema suddenly snapped.

"Well, why would you wanna read about HIM? He's a jerk. I met him once. You wanna know what he said?"

"Some insult of some kind."

Doll blinked rapidly. "… YEAH! You know what he called me?"

"A weak little girl."

"… You know, you're really no fun!" Doll pouted.

Nema shrugged. "It's Michael. Michael is Michael."

"… Oh, yeah, didn't he live with you for, like, EVER?" Doll said with big, dark eyes. "You're probably used to him being mean, huh?"

"… I don't know… for a while there… it was different."

Doll looked up at the latest addition to Uriel's household and rested her chin on her knees. "You mean he's actually NICE?"

"… Yeah. Yeah, he was."

"I don't believe you…"

"Well I'm not ASKING you to believe me, now, am I?" Nema said cattily.

"What? You think I haven't read this book or something?" Doll held open the book and pointed at it. "It even says here, he used to neglect you! It's only since the Rabbit Hunting started that he even looked in your general direction, and that was FORCED on him! How is that nice?"

Nema snatched the book from Doll's grasp, making the poor little maid squeak in fear. Her fiery red eyes scanned over the article on the War Angel, and she grumbled and threw the book far away from either of them.

"You didn't know about any of that till you got here, did you?" Doll said quietly.

"No. Does it show?" Nema hissed darkly.

"Yup." Doll said simply, watching the albino girl before her pull her knees up against her chest and cross her arms over them, burying her face into the safe cocoon she formed. "Makes you angry, huh?"

It was only then that the fire reflecting in her eyes died down. "… I don't know what it makes me..."

Doll made a low clucking sound in the back of her throat, like some strange sign of pity, and she quickly stood up and went after the book. "Hey, no more frowning! It's bad enough when Uriel-sama gets sad. Let's do something to get your mind off things!"

"… Wanna duel?" Nema asked as she came to a stand.

"What? NO! You'll cut my head off and Uriel-sama will have to fix me up! It'll be a mess!" Doll cried, moving over to one of many bookshelves to put the thick brown book back.

"Then what are we gonna do, Doll?" Nema sighed and tugged on a lock of her ivory hair, watching the girl put away the brown book and pull down a thinner, black one.

"What's this doing here?" Doll pondered as she opened the book.

"What's that?"

"Oh… this is a book on the Fallen." She flipped through the pages and showed Nema. "The different ways to be branded Fallen, where the Fallen reside… all that stuff. It's a small book… I'm sure there are others hiding somewhere… I have to go find where and put this book in the right spot… Hey!"

Nema had snatched the book from Doll's grasp and was greedily thumbing through it. "So it'll have stuff on Rabbits in here, right?"

"It might… Why do you insult yourself all the time? It's weird!"

Nema shrugged. "Bad habit." She said simply, and continued turning all the pages.

"… So, anyway, I heard Raphael-sama say something about you liking to sew? I like it, too! So instead of trying to saw my head off, we could sew something together! How does that sound?" Doll chattered, trying to pull Nema's attention away from the book.

"I found what I'm looking for."

Doll looked over at the pages Nema had let her eyes rest upon. "… Oh, why do you wanna read about that? That's probably the saddest chapter in the book!"

"The chapter on Rabbits is the saddest chapter of the book?"

"Yeah! So just put that away, already –"

But Nema only shushed her, returning to her spot on the ground, intently reading the beginning of the chapter.

"… Oh, come on, Nema…!"

"Quiet, Doll."

"… But it's only gonna make you mad!"

"It wouldn't be the first time I've been mad. Now go away, Doll."

Doll stood, looking dumbfounded at the rejection. "… Well, geez! Try to be friendly and it just backfires!" She muttered irritably to herself as she left Nema to her grim-looking chapter, no longer present to watch the features on Nema's face contort from one of shock to one of disgust, and finally into a calmer, yet deadlier façade to cover the upset soul of Mudou Nemaelle, full-fledged Rabbit.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Over and over. Many times Cheriour repeated the tape, turning up the audio and zooming in on the faces of the two Elemental Angels in an attempt to make out what information Raphael had relayed to Michael.

He'd always prided himself in having such excellent espionage equipment, yet the two Angels had spoken in such low voices Cheriour was now reduced to piecing together bits of information to make an educated guess. They were speaking of Nema falling off buildings near the end of Raphael's visit… Michael had asked a question with the delighted tones of joy in his voice a bit earlier than that. Raphael had left with a contented smile on his face, and Cheriour clearly recalled that Michael had seemed… not happy, but definitely more careless about his restraints during the evening check up.

So it was something about Nema, then. Something about the recent events regarding her, but it seemed to make Michael happy, now… She must have been resurrected. Well, that was no problem. He could find her and dispose of her for a second time. Who knows? Maybe there were one or two things he could do before disposing of her, just to see the Fire Angel get riled up, of course. But now he needed to figure out where she could be hiding.

Mudou house? He asked one of his underlings to get a report on the system set up around the Mudou house. Apparently, Raphael was down there having tea with Setsuna and Sara and explaining that Nema had indeed been resurrected… and was living with Uriel.

Now, THAT was a problem. If Nema had been in any other place, even places in HELL, Cheriour could have found a decent way to track her down. But Hades… that was a designated no-man's land, a perfect sanctuary for human souls until they were judged and sent up high or down low… it was a SANCTUARY. Human, Angel, or Demon, anyone residing in Hades could not be harmed.

Cheriour shut off the video tape and sat back in his seat, stroking his chin in deep thought. There must have been some way around that… He'd have to do more heavy reading of God's laws… He was sure he could find some kind of loophole if he looked hard enough…

"Cheriour-sama…"

"Yes?"

"We have been very fortunate to catch two handfuls of Rabbits… a pack hopping their way to Raphael-sama. What shall you have us do to them?"

"Two whole handfuls, you say?" Cheriour smiled his cold, empty smile. That was one thing he liked about the Rabbits already in Heaven. He didn't need loopholes to reach them, just a good Rabbit Hunter or two. "… What is something we have not done in a while?"

"It has been two weeks since we have done any traditional crucifixion."

"Very well, but I want them to be lashed with ten different whips each beforehand. And they must be nailed at high noon, so that the wounds are baking for the birds."

"The birds will thank you for the meals."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"… This is a lot you're asking of me, Raphael… You realize that I am putting myself at risk by letting Nema seek sanctuary here. Now, you ask me to keep Barbiel, too?"

"I ask this of you as a brother… Barbiel isn't far along, but she is going to start showing someday…"

"And you will be branded Fallen."

"You know it's more than that. SHE will be branded Fallen. And with the Rabbit Hunting? Who knows what Cheriour will do… perform a forced abortion…"

"That won't do."

"No child of mine is going to die before he or she lives."

Uriel sighed heavily, his green eyes fixating on the cup of tea Doll had left for him. "I admire those noble words…"

"They're not noble at all, this is nothing but instinct. I need to protect what I love." Raphael leaned forward in his seat, his ice-blue eyes pleading. "I have performed favors for you in the past. Remember… I resurrected Setsuna…"

"You did… And I keep his daughter safe in return."

"… What about Doll?"

"What about her?" Uriel said, frowning into his teacup.

"You know the body she is using is the oldest prototype you've ever made. It's a tinker toy you made before the first Great War. Very old."

"Yes…"

"That type of body is not properly constructed to hold souls. The second it shuts down, the spirit leaves. That is why you made the newer dolls that don't need keys…"

"… Yes."

"… You remember now. If I didn't cast a spell to keep her spirit moving slow, she would have been lost to you a long time ago." Raphael watched the Earth Angel continue to stare into the dark depths of tea in his cup. "… I have no idea what compelled you to try anything to put that Angel soul into a doll. You only had that old prototype and she wasn't an Angel you were familiar with… But I did that for you, just the same."

"… And I owe you for that."

"… You forced me to bring that up. But if you really want to be technical, you know you owe me for that."

Uriel took a sip of the dark tea and slowly nodded. "… For the record, I really did know of her. Her name was once Kirie, and she led a sad life. I felt an indescribable need to give her a new life, not the one of a ghoul… Because of this, I changed her name."

"It's still strange, and you know it. Fate must be pulling weird strings."

"… Yes… it must be…" Uriel said quietly. "… Bring Barbiel to me whenever she is ready to come here."

Raphael's icy eyes lit up in gratitude. "Thank you, Uriel, I –"

"Uriel!" It was Nema's voice, coming out like sharp steel to cut through the happiness Raphael emanated.

"Yes, Nema?" Uriel said calmly, and watched as Nema slid aside Uriel's tea cup and put down a thin, black book, a thicker, red book, and what looked like a big white encyclopedia. Several things were highlighted in pink, underlined in red. "… Somehow, I knew this would happen some time soon…"

"What?" Raphael asked, arching golden brows and looking at the three books.

"That is all disgusting." Nema said firmly, her red eyes flashing. "The first book, the black one. Read what I highlighted."

"Improper Children… born out of sexual relations between Angels… Risked abnormalities at birth… condemned Fallen… considered lower than Fallen… slums… unregistered… arrested for registration and branding…" Raphael read all the pink highlights. A whole sentence was circled in red ink. "They are animated sin, moving blasphemy, breathing filth."

"Breathing filth!" Nema hissed after Raphael. "Now the red one. Read the red one!"

"We are a breeding population of sinners, according to our great God… this is why we are condemned to live in the least sanitary, least bountiful of places… We do not deserve food, nor shelter… we do not hope for advancement… Ironically, I pray to the same God who has ruined my chances for a life I can be proud of… Today I found out that I am pregnant… He will never admit to being the father because he is too pure, his white wings are God's indication of it… But I have heard that someone has changed the minds of the high council… I have heard that they will send us food rations… A good sign. So I pray to God that this will not be an empty hope. I pray for a world in which we are no longer Improper… Fatherless or not, I pray to raise my child in a world much brighter than I have seen. I pray to give birth to a child with white wings… like it's father…" The Wind Angel looked up at Nema with confused eyes. "What is this?"

Uriel answered for her. "That is a rewritten copy of a diary recovered from the ruins of Shamayim. I also have the original diary itself… it has become a favorite novel for I-Children in Heaven."

Raphael looked at the cover, which was plainly titled, The Shamayim Diary.

"Want me to read that last entry?" Nema spat and snatched the book from Raphael's hands.

"You don't need to do th-"

"Oh it's short, it won't take long at all!" Nema snapped and began reading. "LIES! ROTTEN ANGEL… EXPLOSIVES IN THE RATIONS! NASTY WHITE WING LIES! IRONY… DYING FROM FOOD! FOOD WE NEEDED! ROTTEN LIARS...! MY BABY WILL NEVER…" Nema closed the book with a snap, and let Raphael look at the cover again. Under the title were the words, "Father, why have You forsaken me?"

"… God… Nema…"

"Who is this GOD you speak of?" Nema cut the Wind Angel off. "I have one more book for you! Don't worry, it's mostly pictures!"

"This is a forensic pathologist book, Nema…" Uriel said quietly.

"But not just ANY… There are Shamayim 'samples' in there!"

"Shamayim what?" Raphael asked.

"Hey, that's what THIS says! Read it!"

Raphael reluctantly obeyed. "Contained in the next thirty seven pages are pictures of samples from the Shamayim Explosion. These will show you what to look for whenever internal explosives are suspected…" He looked at the bodies. Several did not have faces, some did not have jaws. Many had giant holes instead of bellies, or even missing throats because the food had gone off in mid-swallow. Nema had highlighted something. "Note that the flesh of the open wounds appear to be tearing outward in a stellate, or starlike pattern. Lacerations will always push the flesh inward and not outward, as these curious wounds show."

"Curious wounds!" Nema mocked the book cruelly and pushed it off the table with a swipe of her pale hand, letting the big white book land on the floor, roll over and flip open again, stopping at another picture of a "Shamayim sample." And then she leaned her elbows on the table, her head hovering over Uriel's tea cup, and she said to the Earth Angel, "Tell me about Cheriour's Rabbit Hunting."

Raphael observed this Michael-like rage and wondered if she, like Michael, might explode in flames. "Nema, you don't need to do this…!"

"You! You don't know what I need to do! But I'm not gonna be in the dark anymore! I won't let you keep me blind!" Nema pulled up Raphael's chair and sat in it. "So out with it, Uriel. Why is THAT MAN doing this? We were already dying from starvation. Why isn't that enough for him?"

Uriel's green eyes blinked sadly at the I-Child before him. "… His intentions are, truly, unknown. He is merely one of many extremists, a believer in God's programming to the point of blind worship. He does not question God's word."

"And God's word is that we should be dead!" Nema snarled.

"God's word is that… your kind… should never have been made, to begin with. According to his speeches, Cheriour believes that if the I-Children are wiped out, God will be appeased."

"According to other books God is a COMPUTER."

"… Yes, but He is also an entity within the computer. While there is no proof that God has been displeased in any way, there is no proof that God is NOT unhappy, either."

"That's where Cheriour gets away with his fucking rallies!"

"Unfortunately so. With no proof of anything, and with such a smooth talker like Cheriour becoming overtly ambitious, the rallies worked in his favor to unimaginable degrees."

"And then he started the Rabbit Hunting."

"… Ironically, he took an old term used among I-Children to describe the Angels that caught and branded them, and spun it into a project name and a job title for those in need of money or just looking for an important status. He feeds off all sorts of angles to fulfill his one desire…"

"To kill us off." Nema said darkly.

"… To make I-Children suffer… and then kill them off." Uriel watched Nema's mouth curl into a scowl. "Cheriour is registered as the Angel of Punishment… he delights in torture devices by his very nature… and he will use them on whoever he is about to kill. That is his way. It was always been his way."

For a while the three remained silent, the two Angels watching the Rabbit absorb the information with a sour, hurt face. "… I want to know what we have done in response."

"We?"

"We. My kind. What have we done?"

Uriel paused before answering, but he answered truthfully, as he always did. "… The I-Children have no army. Their supporters are few in number and it is not enough to start a retaliation. Along with this, I-Children are not raised as other Angels are. They are not sufficiently trained and so, in many cases, the powers I-Children are born with remain dormant or are not used well."

"We do nothing."

"There is very little the I-Children can do about their current situation."

Again Nema was silent, and again the two Angels could only look upon the girl with sad eyes. "… I think my kind should fight back."

"That is suicide."

"SUICIDE IS SITTING DOWN AND ALLOWING THEM TO DO WHAT THEY WILL!" Nema suddenly stood. "You say Rabbits aren't sufficiently trained… take the supporters and have them TRAIN us!"

"It is too late."

"It's NEVER too late!"

"Nema, the I-Children are widely outnumbered…" Raphael said softly.

"Numbers have NOTHING to do with this! Cheriour kills us because we BREATHE. BREATHE! This isn't about numbers; this is about right and wrong! What Cheriour believes is WRONG and we should either show him or die trying!"

"So you'll rush into battle and die without another thought except, 'He's wrong!'" Raphael took hold of Nema's pale shoulders. "You'll be creating senseless slaughter."

"Senseless slaughter has already been created! Thank Cheriour for that!"

"Nema…" The Wind Angel fished for something to put an end to Nema's steadily growing ambitions. She was talking war and didn't even realize it! "… So, fine, go into battle and die! What… what will Michael think?"

"THAT MAN…!" Nema slapped away Raphael's hands. "HE'LL EITHER FIGHT WITH ME OR LEAVE ME TO MY DEATH, JUST LIKE HE LEFT ME TO BE RAPED! AT LEAST THEN I'LL KNOW FOR SURE WHETHER HE'S TRULY IN LOVE, LIKE HE CLAIMED TO BE!"

The Wind Angel frowned at the angry words flowing from Nema's lips. "… Nema…"

"Nema?" Doll suddenly entered. "I finished mending your clothes, and they're freshly washed, too!"

"Fine, I'll change then." Nema turned and followed Doll, but not before turning to look over her shoulder and say coldly, "I won't sit here and be cozy while others like me run and die. Either they find sanctuary, too, or I die with them."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Hello, Barbiel." Uriel greeted her as she stepped out of a ship. "Why the ship?" He asked Raphael, who followed Barbiel.

"Because I've got a few that need tending to, and I couldn't afford to leave them behind." The Wind Angel said as he wrapped one arm around Barbiel's shoulders. She blushed and was unable to look Uriel in the eye.

"It's okay, Barbiel. You won't be judged here." The Earth Angel said calmly.

"… Thank you for letting me hide out here." She said softly. "… Where is Nema?"

"… She is more than likely in the library again. I would advise leaving her alone for a while. She became… enlightened… about her kind yesterday and since then has been less than amiable." Uriel said cautiously.

"… I see." Barbiel said quietly, sharing a goodbye kiss with Raphael and waving him off as he made to leave.

"… What are you all doing?" Raphael cried. Several I-Children had begun to flow out of the side door like an avalanche of red-eyed snow. They all began speaking at once.

"We heard you speaking to Barbiel on the way here…! You are keeping one of us here!"

"When you are finished healing us we will only be put back into danger… we want sanctuary, too!"

"Give us sanctuary, sanctuary!"

The mass of I-Children cried and Uriel was amazed to see as many as 30 I-Children limping or even crawling out.

"… I can't… I can't give you that…" Raphael sputtered and tried rounding them up as well as he could. For a moment he was lost in a flurry of white, but once Uriel stepped in to help, they were soon, regretfully, pushed back into the ship. "… I wish that I could leave them here…"

"It would jeopardize all hope of saving Barbiel. One load of I-Children and you will soon need to send them all here. It will be noticed."

"… Yes. I know." Raphael sighed and guided one last I-Child into the ship. "… Thanks again, Uriel."

"You're welcome."

And with that Raphael left, having to herd a whole 30 I-Children back to where they had originally been left.

… Or was that 31?

Nema looked nothing like herself, as she rushed along in a white slip, bare feet, and her hair done up in a ponytail so sloppy one would have never imagined her wearing it. But she wasn't even sure if this would work. It was mere luck that she had just rolled out of bed. She had looked out the window and was amazed to see the ship and the flood of I-Children, and it only took a few seconds to slap her ivory strands into a messy mass and pack the necessary clothing into a white bag.

She needed to find a way to break off… Raphael was going to notice her at some point and then it was back to Hades. Nema wouldn't take that. They were out to save her, but she had a completely different agenda.

She saw a door on the other side of the hallway, and she decided to go for it while Raphael was busy trying to keep someone else from running off.

Nema thoroughly enjoyed her hunches, sometimes. She'd found her way into storage. There would be some kind of door that she could drop out from whenever they landed. But for now, all she was concerned with was wearing the clothing she wanted to wear. She unzipped her white bag in tore the elastic out of her hair, taking off the slip, throwing on her undergarments, her black skirt, her dark red tank top. She stomped into her boots and tied them with abnormal speed, and ran the brush she kept in the bag through her hair. The only thing left was her mini-crown, and she had to take out Michael's shirt before finding it and tying it onto her head.

Now there was nothing left to do but wait for the landing. Nema toyed with the fabric of Michael's black shirt. Since coming to Hades, she had found it hard to wear the shirt she had once clung to for dear life. It belonged to a man who had allowed her to fall prey to dangers and cruelties, a man who had allowed her to be raped. And yet, it was the same man that she had been crazy enough to care about. Crazy…. Crazy, indeed. She had fallen in love with a man who had let her life become Hell.

Even now, as she came to grips with these facts, she could not deny that she still wanted to be with him. Just think… She was going to Heaven. And somewhere in there, Michael was chained up because he had slept with her. If she could find a way, she wanted to bust him out. Surely he would want to help her liberate her kind. He wouldn't deem her ambitions impossible… he would make them a reality with her.

And in the end… when he made it all real with her… she would forgive him of his neglect. She forgave him… even now.

Nema's ears popped, and she wondered if it was because the ship had gone up high enough to have that effect on her, or if it is was because the ship was actually making its descent. Regardless, she was getting closer and closer to Heaven. A place revered by humans as a true Eden. But when Nema reached there, she would be a fugitive. A runaway living on dreams spurred by injustice and anger. Would she even make it far? Would she ever even get to begin to make her hopes materialize?

She felt a lump in one of the pockets of Michael's shirt and pulled it out. Her rosary had suffered from the fall that brought her to Hades, but here were the first five white rosary beads, attached to the Angel Crystal cross. She gripped the cross in tight, white fist and closed her red eyes. Feeling the cross pressed against her flesh made her think of Michael, and she poured her fear into her clenched fist. What would Michael do? Who cared if she hadn't known he was the Devil's brother… She knew something more important than that. She knew his spirit; she knew the way he thought. And so… if Michael was about to become a fugitive…

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

'Michael… if you were me… what would you do?'

The Fire Angel tugged on his chains as he felt sleep leaving him. And yet, he felt like he was waking up to Nema's voice. If only he was.

'I am on the brink of life and death, now… There is no turning back. My only option is to run… But I've definitely created my own mess. I need help to get what I yearn for… And I wish you were with me. If you were me… what would you do?'

None of these words were making any sense to Michael. He doubted Nema was actually before him, talking, for he was still chained. Waves of sleep still tugged at him… Was it a strange form of a dream? Well, then it was better than most… at least he was hearing the voice that belonged to Nema.

'I wish that you were here to tell me… what you would do…!'

A small smile pulled on Michael's lips. 'Feh…! That's easy! The only option is to run? So run!'

What he didn't know was that somewhere else in Heaven, Raphael's ship had landed, and though Nema had not literally heard him say what he thought, the idea traveled to her and gave her hope. And so, filled with courage, Nema unlocked the door and dropped down from it, making sure to close it so no one could guess she had been there. And she ran.


	18. Chapter 18

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Eighteen_

By: Brenli

It felt like hours before Nema had to collapse. She ducked into what seemed to be a leftover crate and curled up there, throwing Michael's shirt over her like a shawl, catching her breath. This whole business of running away really was harder than it looked. She had been fortunate enough to sprint into a dark alleyway, and now, she was reduced to these dark alleyways, hoping that they would continue to form some kind of maze that she could allow herself to get lost in.

Once again the hopelessness nibbled at the back of her head. She didn't exactly have this intuitive knowledge about Heaven. Where would she ever find another I-Child? How could she find them? She had a much better chance of being caught by Cheriour and his Hunters than of ever reaching the people she wanted to get into contact with.

And yet, she couldn't turn back. She'd thrust herself into this mess and she could only run with it. The cold, hard reality was that now, she was in no sanctuary. No cups of tea from Doll and no warm bed supplied by Uriel. She was no longer living a life in Assiah, either, which had its own luxuries, like parents, and for a time, even Michael. Now, none of these things were hers. She would stay in the shadows of Heaven, now… She would sleep in cardboard boxes and crates. Michael's shirt would be her only blanket. And she would have no food, unless she dared to dig through garbage and waste, and dared to eat things spoiled.

Well, Nema would put up with it, then, if she needed to. How many others like her had been more or less forced to endure that kind of life? And it was worse now… How many were dying right now? How many were…

"RUUUUUUN!"

"Get them! Get them BOTH!"

"Please… spare him! He's only five!" The pleading tones of a mother could be heard, along with the pitter patter of feet coming in her direction. Nema looked up to see that a young boy with his own set of a striking red eyes and pale skin was scrambling right for her. She watched him take one of the garbage cans and move it in front of the open part of the crate as he flung himself inside, somehow unaware that there was another person under the lump of black cloth she must have looked like.

Then the poor young boy was slapping at the lump she was, and she pulled Michael's black shirt away from her face.

"… Whoa, who are you?" The boy's red eyes seemed to glow as they widened.

Whoa? Why, whoa? No time for that now. Somewhere near them were Rabbit Hunters, and he was being loud! "Shhh!" Nema clamped a hand over the boy's mouth.

"Where did that Rabbit brat go?" A Hunter hissed, coming around the corner. Nema could see through just the tiniest of slits which the garbage can did not sufficiently cover. He stood tall and proud in his dark cloak, and then behind him another Hunter kicked to the ground another I-Child, obviously the boy's mother, judging from the "mm mm!" that left the boy's covered mouth.

"Leave my son out of this!" The mother shouted.

"Your son…" The second Hunter hissed, "Rabbits breeding Rabbits! What a disgusting world we're in."

"That brat is hiding somewhere… Well, we'll just do away with her, then. You, Rabbit Girl! Your wings."

The mother's red eyes widened and filled with tears as the first Hunter took out a short sword. "… God, no! Not that…!"

"God is not on your side!" The second Hunter hissed. "Now, your wings! Or we can take it the slow way… and show your hiding son where Rabbits come from!"

The mother sobbed and brought out her black wings, and the first Hunter laughed with the second as they pulled them back…

"Shit!" They cried, as Nema exploded from her hiding spot and rushed at them, her red eyes flashing in rage as she tackled the first Hunter and began twisting his short sword out of his hand. The second Hunter seemed nervous and was trying restrain the mother while taking out a gun, but the boy had rushed forth, too, wrestling the gun away from slippery, nervous fingers.

"What is this, a death wish? You fucking Rabbit, your bravery is for nothing!" The first Hunter snarled evilly, while Nema continued to twist the short sword out of his possession. His fingers were tugging on her hair, but she ignored the pain and kept trying to make the sword slip.

And then she heard it. A gun shot, a loud scream, a thud belonging to a dead body, and another thud belonging to the little boy as the recoil sent him back onto the ground. "Oh, honey, are you okay?" The mother rushed after her son, and Nema finally gained possession of the short sword. The first Hunter was reaching for his long sword, but Nema got to him before he even touched the handle.

It was tougher than it looked, stabbing someone through the heart. There could have been a number of factors… a dull blade… Nema not stabbing in the softest area… general inexperience and the urgency of the situation… but she did it. Her very first murder.

Nema watched with wide, red eyes as the life flowed out of rich golden-brown ones… golden-brown eyes that must have seen her before, because they narrowed, and the last words to leave him were, "Michael's… girl…"

"What's that racket?" A voice could be heard. No time for reflecting on what she'd done. Apparently the boy was okay. No time for chit chat. No time for anything except running.

"Come on, we've gotta go!" Nema cried, as she pushed the dead first Hunter down to join the second. Her pale hands pushed the mother and child forward, and off they sprinted, Nema following them, hoping they knew where they were going.

"THREE! A PACK OF THREE! HURRY, AFTER THEM!" One, two, no, three Hunters, one for each runaway Rabbit, began pursuing them with swords raised. Nema looked over her shoulder at them and began pushing the mother and child more desperately, but neither seemed to have the gift of swiftness.

"Do you know where you're going?" Nema asked the mother.

"Yes, we'll be safe soon!" The mother cried, scooping her little son into her arms. His eyes were still wide and afraid, and the gun was still in his hand.

"Little boy, give me the gun!" Nema stole the gun from the petrified boy's grasp and began to aim and fire.

She wasn't a very good shot, mostly because the recoil kept sending her arm up. She'd spent some time with a sword by now, but next to none with a firearm. She shot once, twice, and missed. The third time she hit one pursuer in the thigh. And the fourth she got lucky and hit another in the head.

The fifth time nothing happened. She was out of ammo.

Nema growled and tossed the gun aside, nearly tripping over herself as the mother made a sharp turn left and sprinted. She rushed after them, and it seemed they had disappeared… into a wall?

Then she realized that there was a hole near the bottom of the building, and the mother and son had smoothly slipped down, as though they were accustomed to these types in entryways.

"Hurry! In here!" The mother cried, holding out her white hand.

But all around her were voices, now. The Hunter that had lived through Nema's desperate gunshots had called together more than one group, and they were all advancing quick. She could make it… but not without giving them away.

Where were they going? Would there be many more wherever they were planning on hiding? She couldn't put them all at risk.

She had to set herself up.

"I can't." Nema shook her head, her ivory strands of hair swaying about her.

"Yes you can, please hur –" The mother cried out as the Hunter who had survived the gunfire pounced on Nema, trying to throw her down under his weight.

"You think you can get away so easy, Rabbit?" The Hunter sneered. "We'll rip you to shreds, turn you into fertilizer!"

Nema spat up at him and struggled to come to a stand, her wrists locked in his death grip.

The Hunter merely laughed. "Here they all come, now… and we will make sure each one of our swords cuts away your disgusting, ghostly flesh!"

Nema ignored the threats and tried to wave off the mother and son. "Leave, please leave!"

"No!" The little boy shouted, and the mother had to hold him tight lest he try to run out.

The voices were growing louder now, but nothing overtook the sound of Nema's quickening heartbeat. Was it the end already? Was there really no hope? Was there…

"…WHOA!" The boy said, half in fear and half in awe.

Nema watched the headless body of the Hunter slide to the ground, and Nema shook off the grip on her wrists before they could stiffen and trap her. She'd made his head explode. … She'd almost forgotten she could do that.

She stood there, bathed in blood, as the voices of her pursuers grew still louder. "You need to go. I swear I'll be fine." The words left her mouth breathlessly.

The mother, wide-eyed, nodded and began to pull her son away with her, but he fought to stay, and asked one small question. "What's your name?"

The question was common, simple, friendly. It made Nema smile through the bloody mask she now wore. "Nema. Now run!"

Just like that, they were gone, and Nema already missed them, though she had barely gotten acquainted with them. But there was no time to long for them; she had to do something about this body, or at least find a way divert the attentions of the next batch of pursuers.

… Well, she wasn't about to carry the body off. Making the whole body rupture would still leave a puddle of blood.

Fine, she'd make a victim out of herself. Nema dared to fly up, up high above the crowded buildings, her dark wings spread wide in a reckless display.

It worked like magic. Upon sight of her black feathers, as many as ten Hunters spread their white wings and flew up to join her.

She wasn't going to waste any time allowing them to catch up. She turned and sped off, flying who knows where… all that mattered was that she flew somewhere far from that little boy and his mother.

The Hunters were throwing insults and threats at her like they would somehow shoot her down, but she ignored the verbal attacks, and began searching for a place she could get lost in. Building after building… dark alleyways… but how much better if she could find some kind of forest to get lost in!

Eventually they realized that their words didn't make good weapons, nor did they grant them speed. Someone began firing a gun at her. Nema felt a bullet rush through the dark feathers of her left wing, and began flapping more urgently, and then she heard one of them talking, not to her, but to someone else, over a phone of sorts.

"Yes, sir, we are! Yes, ten of us! … You don't understand, sir, it's – But, sir! … Toward the Fields… NANI? But, sir, it's – Sir! Sir? Ah, dammit!" A Hunter cursed under his breath. "There are nine Hunters too many. Fall back, she's mine!"

Nine Hunters too many, huh? Since when was Cheriour merciful? Nema couldn't help but grin to herself, especially when she noticed that they were now soaring over an open field. Grass! Maybe she might actually find a forest to get lost in! And that had just been wishful thinking!

Oh goodness, what luck! The field was giving way to, believe it or not, a smudge of trees that looked as though they were forming a long, thick line. A barrier to a place? Didn't matter, she dived right in, feeling the scratchy twigs attempt to trap her large black wings.

"You think you're smart because you're hiding in foliage?" The Hunter behind her scoffed. He sounded so much closer than before, now, so Nema willed away her dark wings and allowed herself to fall onto the thick branches of a tree. "I can still HEAR you, brainless Rabbit!" He was close enough even for Nema to hear the ringing of his phone, now, but she dared not turn around, and she slid down from one branch to the next, and flung herself in the next tree. "What the Hell is it now?" The Hunter sighed and continued pursuing Nema. "… WHAT? Sir, I'm right on her tail! It's – Sir, let me finish, it's – No, no, sir! … Yes, sir…" And then she heard the Hunter growl, and she dropped to the ground. "You got lucky, fucking Rabbit! The next time I see you, I WILL kill you. Till then, have fun HERE, Rabbit Girl!"

Have fun? Whatever. Nema was just glad he was gone. Her knees gave out and she flopped to the ground, covered in blood, leaves, and twigs. She struggled to catch her breath as she continued to lie there, sure that she passed off beautifully for a dying person at this moment. How many miles had she flown or ran by now? And did all the other I-Children have to run this much every day?

Nema would have liked to curl up on the ground and sleep for a while, but a smell made its way to her pale nose. It was a sweet scent, but by no means was it pleasant. It made her think of rotten fruit, yet it had a distinctly different sharpness to it.

She realized she was smelling death. She was afraid to reopen her blood-red eyes. She neither wanted nor needed to see what was, perhaps, just before her.

And then she heard two voices straining together in anger. Two people clearly arguing somewhere in this death-scented place. Still, Nema shut her eyes, pretending it was she herself that was dead.

It was then that a gun shot pierced the air, and Nema jumped in natural fear. At last her eyes were open.

Oh God, she wanted to close them again, she wanted to close them again! How many were there in this blood-soaked field…? Crosses, crudely nailed crosses, each adorned with an I-Child! Cheriour's men hadn't even taken the time to properly push the crosses into the ground; so many were at odd angles, and some had even fallen over.

Nema pressed her pale hands over her trembling mouth and slowly progressed through the field with wide, scared, disgusted red eyes. Each I-Child was heavily lashed with whips if they were not already cut open. A sad-eyed little boy was strung up on his cross with barbed wire, clearly gutted as though he were nothing more than an albino fish. His entrails were left on the ground before him, and birds pecked cruelly at them, and in his death he stared, longingly, as though if he did that long enough, he'd get them back.

Nema choked on carefully restrained tears and rushed at the birds, watching them fly off with their white wings. Never before had white wings looked so ugly to her… and there they were, attached to apathetic birds leaving a wide buffet.

She felt like vomiting, she really did, as she passed more bodies, some nailed, some tied, one hung, some missing limbs, two missing heads, one missing a face, and almost all of them missing their wings.

Nema's black boots came up on the crest of a blood-soaked hill, and she finally saw what the commotion was. A woman was on her knees before another rough cross, and a man struggled to pry from her hands a gun that she fired off for a second time. "My baby!" She sobbed wildly, and Nema looked up at the cross to see a little girl. She was six, at most, strung up with rope, though she had all the stigmatic marks of Cheriour's crucifixions. She was, like many, lashed with whips, and she was missing one eye.

Nema was amazed to notice that this eye was not red, like her own, or like many of the I-Children she had come across. This eye was a beautiful, deep shade of violet, and though it seemed to lack the ability to focus as she died, it sparkled.

She also noticed that the man caught in the struggle had peculiar hair. It was stylishly cut, angling from the nape of his neck down to brush his collar bone, but it was unkempt. Nema couldn't really blame him for leaving it in such a mess. She probably didn't look so snazzy today, either. But the truly intriguing part of his hair was that the very top of his head was black, as though a whole top layer defied the usual genetics awarded to I-Children. The rest of his hair was white.

"Stop it!" This man said harshly as he maintained a tight grip on the woman's hands.

"Leave me alone, Rujiel…!" The woman sobbed. "Please let me take care of my poor baby!"

"By killing her? You'll make her a ghoul?"

"THERE IS NOTHING LEFT FOR HER BUT TO BECOME A GHOUL!" The woman sobbed. "Don't you see that there is no hope for my little baby? Let me end it all!"

And the girl began to speak brokenly. "… Mama…"

"It's okay, baby… Mama's gonna make it better…!" She fired the gun twice, the bullets whizzing off into the air. "RUJIEL!" The tormented woman cried. "LET GO!"

"Stop it."

The three I-Children looked up to see, standing before them… some kind of strange vision. She was an I-Child, plain to see, but she was clothed as though she had come from a much better place than any of them could have imagined. She was bathed in blood, but it was not her own blood. How odd for any one of their unfortunate kind… and her wings! She dared to walk around in broad daylight with them so widely displayed…? Had she gone plumb mad? Was she even real, this girl, one of their kind, but so clearly removed from their way of life? Was she a vision of the future, when I-Children could spill blood in return, and march in shiny, black boots, like militant kings and queens? A future only the angry and fiery dared to fathom…

"… This isn't your business." The man known as Rujiel said darkly. "And put away your wings; you're not impressing anyone."

It had been a while since Nema had received that kind of attitude from someone she had not considered an enemy, so her narrowed eyes fixated on him. His own pair of red eyes seemed a bit dull compared to hers, as though any light left in him was hiding under layers and layers of cynicism and hopelessness. "… Then excuse me for being nosey…" Nema replied in the same frozen tone, "But you could at least consider that all the gunshots are going to spark the White Wings' attention before my wings ever do."

He must have been a man that wasn't used to being stood up to. His mouth dropped open just the slightest bit before he caught himself and closed it again, glaring at her more harshly. "You think you're clever? We don't need that kind of attitude! We'll see who's so brave when they hang you up, cut off your wings and gut you! We'll see who's so proud!" He made her think of a taller, paler, more mature Michael, with a less fiery heart and a less coarse tongue. "Stop it!" He snarled to the woman he restrained. She had fired off her gun once again.

"I only want to take care of my baby…!" The woman sobbed.

"A mother shouldn't kill her child!" Rujiel snapped.

"Fine!" And the woman dropped the gun and kicked it towards Nema. "Then let her! She's not the mother! I'll bet she's got more of a heart than you do, Rujiel!"

Nema stared down at the gun with wide red eyes, listening to Rujiel stutter and snarl, "… Y-you… I can't believe you're… SERIOUS!" He was suddenly diving toward the gun, and he snatched it up before Nema could even react… But then he stood, five inches taller than her, and handed her the gun. "… Well? She wants you to do it."

"… I thought you were against it. You fought that hard for nothing?"

"I have no idea where YOU come from, but in these parts you get used to fighting for nothing. That's why we give up." Rujiel pressed the gun into her hands. "… So… go now. Before I decide to keep the gun from you."

Nema found that some strange instinct inside of her made her grip the gun, and she turned it over in her pale, blood-smothered hands. Now she had another life to dispose of… and it belonged to one of her kind.

Nema tried her best to ignore the sniffles and sobs that still poured from the poor woman behind her as she walked up to the little one-eyed girl. That shining purple eye gave Nema a long, unfocused stare, and then she asked, "… Are you going to take care of me?"

"… Yes…" Nema said in the smallest whisper; the sound probably lost in the silence of death and this girl's mother's soft crying.

"... You have… a pretty crown… I have a friend with a crown… but it's broken. We are all broken. How are you so pretty?"

"… I really don't think I look so pretty…"

"No, I can tell, if you washed up… you'd look real pretty… I'd be proud to be a Bunny Rabbit if I looked like you…" The little girl's eye blinked at her. "What's your name?"

Nema blinked back the tears than began to build up behind her eyes and bit her lip. "Nema. What's yours?"

"'S not important…" The little girls voice was slurring now, as she got closer to the delusional point of death.

"Of course it's important. Please tell me your name?"

"… 'S Isobelle… Ya spell it with e-l-l-e… Mama liked it 'cause it looks French… She was born in Normandy… But she grew up here…"

The corners of Nema's trembling mouth turned up in a sad, small smile. "That's a pretty name, Isobelle…"

And Isobelle smiled. "But it won't be my name for much longer. I'll give it to you, if you want…"

The innocent, childish question finally helped push two tears down Nema's bloodied face. "No… Nema's good enough for me…" Nema stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Isobelle's forehead. The skin was cold and loose, and it made Nema cry harder. She sniffled and sighed, and then she whispered into Isobelle's ear, "Close your eyes… and think of a place better than Heaven…"

Nema stepped behind Isobelle and pointed the gun at the back of her head.

"Do you see it?"

"Yes…" Isobelle sighed happily.

Nema closed her eyes with the poor little girl. "Tell me, what do you see?"

In spite of all the utter torture this poor young girl had endured, it was only at this moment that little Isobelle could cry, but she did so happily. "I see… a hill. I can see this hill, but it's not red anymore. It's so green… so green… and we're all there, every one of us… and there are no White Wings or Rabbits… because we have white wings, too. And there you are… up at the top, and you aren't covered in blood, and your wings… your wings are white, too…"

Isobelle's mother let out a despairing sob as the gun's final bullet put a stopper on Isobelle's speech. Nema could also feel herself choke on a sob, but she bit her lip, holding back the melancholy groan that wanted to form a wail with this poor mother. Two tears flowed from Nema's ruby eyes, washing away white trails through the blood drying in her pale face.

Though Isobelle's mother sniffled and sobbed, it was eerily silent. Rujiel crouched down beside the mother, one hand splayed over her shoulder, where he lightly rubbed her consolingly. He dared not look up at the newest corpse of the day, and kept his eyes fixated on the patch of soil before him. Dark, brick-red soil. Not red of its own accord, but because every day blood soaked into this patch of earth. Every day a body lay on this inch of dirt. It moved, picked at by those damn white birds, or becoming the next chosen target for a Hunter's afternoon game of "Kick the Can."

A pair of black boots obstructed Rujiel's view of the bloody ground, and he finally looked up. There she was, blood-soaked and oblivious to her role as one of the Hunted, silent tears building up and flowing from her red eyes. She sniffled and threw the gun far away from herself. And he could not help himself. "So, are you still brave, Naïve Girl?"

It was the wrong thing to say. Nema's boot promptly connected with the center of his chest. He had to admit that she had a good kick on her as he fell back, coughing from the force.

"I'm naïve? Fine, I'm fucking naïve! At least I've still got hope, unlike you, you pathetic excuse for a man! Why don't you put away that crude, cold attitude of yours? You're not impressing anyone!" Nema mocked him angrily, and quickly pushed her rage aside as she helped Isobelle's mother stand. "Where do you live?"

Isobelle's mother blinked back tears. "… You truly aren't from here…"

"I am Assiah born and raised."

"… I see." Isobelle's mother could hardly talk as she collapsed against Nema in tears.

"… We all live… underground." Rujiel choked and cleared his throat as he got on his feet. "We have to, now that the Rabbit Hunting has started. We are in separate areas in the run down districts…"

He sounded relatively docile, now that Nema had dealt him a decent blow, so Nema returned the favor and spoke softly to him. "Will you take me in?"

"You ask that as if we'll say no. Of course we'll take you in. Even if you are a naïve girl."

"Thanks, you cynical bastard." Nema responded dryly.

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"… Uriel-sama…!" Doll's cry could be heard faintly, but became dramatically louder as she ran into the room Uriel stood in, his dark brow wrinkled in deep thought.

"Have you found her?"

"No!"

"… You see? It's no use, Raphael. She left with you."

The Wind Angel held his hands up helplessly. "I never saw her!"

"She looks like just about every other one of the patients you decided to bring with you. She could have very easily blended in."

"But I dealt with every single one of them, Uriel…! Not one of them had Nema's face! Don't you think I'd KNOW what she looks like by now?"

"None of that matters. The point is that she is lost. I will search through Hades to find her, but I suspect she is definitely in Heaven."

Raphael sighed heavily and ran a hand through his golden hair. "I'll get my allies together and comb through Heaven."

"You should tell her parents."

"They'll kill me."

"They will kill me, too. Does that make you feel better?"

Raphael sneered at Uriel, but said nothing. Uriel had always been a calm person, but sometimes he came off completely apathetic.

"… And Michael will need to know, too."

"… WHAT?"

"She is Michael's girl. He deserves to know her whereabouts."

"… Well if Setsuna doesn't kill me, you know Michael will!"

This sudden turn in events was hardly anything to joke about, yet Uriel could feel a rare, half-smile push up the corners of his smooth, tan lips. "Well, Michael will probably kill me, too."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: Uriel makes me smile sometimes.

How long has it been since my last update? Way too long, way too long. I do remember giving out a proper warning regarding the lack of updates, but I still feel terrible for not getting this done as early as I had wanted to. None of you thought I had abandoned this, right? Please tell me you had faith in me!

Anyway, this chapter was very "All Nema, All the time!" ish, wasn't it? It felt a little strange. I want an even representation, but I failed this round. I did it for an important reason, however; the events from this chapter are a necessary building block to all the real drama I have planned. That's right, so far, "Impy" hasn't even hit the BAR in terms of drama. At least in my terms.

I am a very cruel writer.

And now, a quick thank you to all the many reviews I have received! A lot of praise, I see. It makes me feel bubbly inside. I've also received some of nice criticisms! Don't worry, I don't take these things harshly. Sometimes I become, like, giddy about them. Don't ask why. That's something I'll never fully understand.

And also, a couple people have mentioned Raziel. Where is the guy? He's there; I haven't tossed him out of the story. However I am not bringing him in for a while. There is delicate business for me to attend to. But shh! That's a secret for me to keep.


	19. Chapter 19

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Nineteen_

By: Brenli

"… Gone. She even slipped away from Hades…! What happened…? What did we do…?"

"… I know what we did. We left her."

"She had Michael…"

"And isn't that why we left? We shouldn't have done that… It would've driven us mad, but we should have stayed."

"… And now she's gone off to start a war."

"You don't know that."

"I do, too! Raphael told us she was talking warfare… and now she's gone, and they think she's in Heaven! And you know our daughter. If she's angry enough, she'll do it, just like Michael."

"Yes, just like him."

"… But now we're going to fix it, aren't we?"

"… Yes. But I'm scared."

"Scared? Why are you scared? This isn't anything new to us! We know where we're going!"

"No, I know where I'M going. They kept my body in the Water Garden after putting me back into THIS body, after all. But where are you going? Back into Alexiel? Won't that be a treat for Kira in the morning…"

"Hahah! That would be great!"

"SETSUNA!"

"It's not like Alexiel would be GONE. And Kira oughta be happy that Alexiel and I were actually separated for at least a while…! On top of that, you don't know that for SURE, anyway, Sara. So let's go, if you're ready."

"We'll try to meet up in Hades…?"

"Always a good spot…"

"… Okay. I'm ready."

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"Now, now, it seems I've picked up a Hunter with a bit of an ego and not much common sense…" Cheriour smiled his usual, icy smile and snapped a blood-stained whip at the Rabbit Hunter responsible for allowing ten Hunters to pursue Nema.

"I'm sorry, sir!" The Hunter cried as he jumped back from the whip.

"I would have been a little more willing to let you off lightly if you hadn't given me such an attitude, you know… but I suppose that can't be helped. Twenty lashes with this whip," Cheriour tossed the already bloody whip to another of his henchmen, "and pour salt over the wounds."

"Please, sir!" The Hunter begged desperately. "I had good reasoning…!"

"You sent ten Hunters after one measly Rabbit… When each Hunter can pick off a Rabbit on his own. And this is good reasoning?" Cheriour said with even tones that made him difficult to read into. He turned and waved him off. "Take him away."

"IT WAS NEMAELLE, SIR!" The Hunter screamed desperately as he felt himself being pulled back.

"Wait." Cheriour said dully, looking over his shoulder, though his eyes, as usual, were hidden by his thick, golden bangs. "… You believe you saw Nemaelle?"

"Yes! I have seen that face of hers, before, and I know it was her! I knew you would want us to capture her, seeing as you are so i-interested in her –" The Hunter endured Cheriour's sharp slap.

"I am not 'interested' in any Rabbit." Cheriour said coldly. "She is ugly and a sin, yet by God's system, she was awarded a Guardian Angel, and not just ANY Guardian Angel of lower rank. She got Michael-sama." A tiny sneer was beginning to form on his face. "Nemaelle is a glitch in God's system, and a threat to my project. It is for this reason that she is must be deleted. … And now you say she is in Heaven?"

"… Yes! Yes, sir!"

Cheriour stroked his chin for a moment, his bottom lip puckering in deep thought. "… She would not be so foolhardy as to challenge me… Or is she?" A frozen smile morphed Cheriour's features. "… And just think of what I can do…! My goodness, Nemaelle, you have helped me formulate a most delicious plan…"

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Jinho whistled to himself as his dark shoes tapped against Tokyo concrete. His Dark King had heard yet more rumors regarding Nema and his younger brother. All sorts of strange rumors… Jinho could list them all. Michael had slept with Nema. Michael had been caught and arrested. Nema had attempted suicide. Not long after, she had been killed. She had been resurrected. She had lived in Hades. And the last rumor: Nema had gone missing. Such a confusing mass of rumors exploding at once seemed to grant Jinho the permission to come to Assiah once again, and so on he walked, twirling his black cane about and tipping a new top hat to passersby.

He was looking forward to the new visit. If the rumors were false, he would have a merry time driving Michael mad and making the first rumor true. While Jinho admitted to thinking Nema was very beautiful, he had a particular fondness for playing the role of a dark Cupid. To him, there was nothing more satisfying than driving a man in denial so mad he would throw away his excuses and indulge in the primal, yet disturbingly pure impulses to claim that which he was holding himself away from. It was devilish, yet angelic in its own right. The paradox had always pleased Jinho.

Now he stood and rapped on the door, and to his surprise the door slowly opened. It had not even been shut all the way, as though the inhabitants no longer cared if anyone entered or not. Jinho entered, noting the rearranged furniture. Nema's parents were home.

There was curious trail of pictures. They were pictures of Nema, at a precious few months old, her red eyes wide and innocent as she sucked in her little white fist. Jinho followed the trail. As he walked, Nema became older. By the time he passed the kitchen, he'd passed the image of Nema and himself in their tree. Jinho picked up the picture, smiled, and put it in his coat pocket. He kept walking. Pictures of Nema just entering secondary school. Nema in the doorway, prior to a trip to Harajuku. The last picture was a curious one. It was recent, taken just before Setsuna and Sara had left for vacation. It was a picture of Michael and Nema, both of them looking thoroughly angry with each other, standing with arms crossed, though two of Michael's fingers poked out from behind her head, forming bunny ears.

At last Jinho's dark eyes turned up to see what the trail of pictures led to. Out in the backyard, draped across Jinho's tree stump, were the bodies of Setsuna and Sara. Jinho arched a brow and stepped into the yard. Under the weight of Setsuna's hand was Nema's suicide note. And near Sara's limp hand laid an empty bottle of arsenic.

"… I see." Jinho said solemnly, taking off his top hat and bowing with a flourish.

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"Here we are." Rujiel said, holding a hand back to make the two women he led come to a halt. "Sounds like someone's getting up on the soapbox again."

Nema ignored the authority Rujiel seemed so bent on displaying and took advantage of her short height, stepping under his arm and peeking through the long hole in a simple, dirty sheet serving as a door.

There literally was someone on a soapbox set in the middle of the room. It was the woman Nema had earlier encountered, and her son, still partly bloodied, stood on the ground beside her. She had merely a foot of open space around her, and all the other spaces were littered – literally littered – with I-Children, dressed in torn clothes, looking tired, hungry, and slightly ill.

And they were all very, very angry.

"… They threatened to rape me, those evil White Wing devils!" The woman cried. "In front of my son!"

A moody cry rose from the crowd. "Have they no morals? And think, God favors THEM!"

"I'm not even through! My son's innocence is sullied! In order to save me, my dear son had to steal a gun from one the White Wings and shoot! Five years old and already committing murder!"

This seemed to spur an even angrier cry. "What kind of world is it when our CHILDREN must sin in order to live? What kind of sick, sick world is it?"

"My mom forgets to mention Nema!" The little boy called out.

"Nema?" The mother asked. "… Oh yes, that was her name!"

"Yes!" And the little boy hopped up on the soapbox with his mother. "There was a girl who helped save us. Don't think we'd even be here if she hadn't helped save us!"

"Who, who?" Several asked.

"She told me her name was Nema, and she was the coolest I-Child you ever did see! She can make heads EXPLODE!"

"Whoaaaa…!" The younger voices cooed.

"Yeah! I ran into her when I was hiding. I thought she might be dead, but she wasn't."

"She possessed an abnormal amount of bravery. I'd dare say she was crossing the lines into pure recklessness, but I will always be grateful…!" The mother added to her son's simple praise. "She was dressed beautifully, I tell you… If she were not an I-Child, I'd believe she was one of the highest ranking Angels! A Queen!"

"A violent Queen!" Her son cried with childish glee.

"She even wore the crown. It was a lot like your crown, Lilliel!" The mother said to a little girl of seven years, who was touching her own, broken mini-crown with a small white hand and smiling sheepishly. "She seemed clumsy and lost, I will admit that… But I tell you, while we were with her, I felt like I was safe. I felt like my son was safe if she was there."

"It's the way she fights. She fights like fire, quick and deadly! Like Nyssa did!" Her son grinned.

"You mean before she lost her marbles?" A voice quipped sarcastically, spurring a few laughs.

"My son speaks the truth, though. I swear to you all… She was like Nyssa at her best, but she wears a petticoat and a crown."

"Where is this Nema, then?" An even voice pressed into the crowd, and across this small room another dirty curtain moved aside.

She was tall, and she moved gracefully in her pair of dark gray pants and her own pair of black boots. Her white tank top was slightly wrinkled. And her eyes… the most shocking set of green eyes pierced into the entire room. And judging from the silence, this woman was Nyssa.

"… Well? Where is this new face you are so excited over?"

"… I don't know." The mother said quietly. "As many as ten Hunters were after us… So she set herself up as a lure and led them away, so we could make it here safely."

Nyssa only nodded, letting that information settle over the room like a slap in the face. "… If there were ten, she would be lucky to be alive. A shame. I think I would have liked to meet her, if she was truly me 'at my best.'"

"Then meet me."

Nema shook off Rujiel's hand and pushed aside the curtain, stepping through in all her bloodied glory. She spurred gasps and low murmurs in wonderment, and several pairs of red eyes focused on her, wide and amazed.

"… Aren't you a peaceful picture?" Nyssa said dryly, stepping closer to Nema.

Nema couldn't be sure if Nyssa meant this as an insult or a friendly joke, but she took it lightly, with a lop-sided smile. "I've had a rough day."

"I would imagine so. It's true you had ten Hunters after you?"

"I did, but nine quit."

"Ohhh. That's much more understandable." Nema thought Nyssa was beginning to sound more hospitable, but then the green-eyed I-Child took Nema by the hand and pulled her into the circle. "Let's get you up on the soapbox, then. Everyone is almost literally dying to meet you. So we shall interview you. How does that sound?"

Somehow, Nema hadn't considered that if she were really going to start a war, she would have to speak in front of a large group of people. It was stupid of her to ignore this fact, but all she could do now was go along with it, so the mother and her son stepped off the soapbox and Nema stepped on.

"Your name?" Nyssa asked plainly.

"Nemaelle, Mudou Nemaelle. Call me Nema." Nema responded.

"Mudou? Are you related to the Messiah, then?"

Nyssa seemed to be making herself out as the interviewer, and at least that would make things easier. "He is my father."

Nyssa ignored the low murmurs of praise. "So you are Assiah born and raised."

"Yes."

"And how long have you been in Heaven?"

"… Less than one day."

The murmurs grew and suddenly Nema got the feeling that Nyssa wasn't going to make this as easy as she thought. "Less than one day and already killing Rabbit Hunters… What are you, then? A Messiah-in-training?"

Nema bit back the scowl starting to pull at her lips. "I'm not that proud."

"But you are proud enough walk around with your wings displayed…!" Rujiel's voice spoke up as he leaned against the wall in the back.

"No one asked you, did they?" Nema snapped.

"A bit of a brave spirit, aren't you?" Nyssa sounded half in awe, and half sarcastic. "It should be obvious to you now that Heaven is no safe place to be for an I-Child. Why have you come to Heaven?"

"Assiah isn't any safer! The Rabbit Hunters hunt there, too." Nema felt fueled by the verbal disapproval the other I-Children expressed. "I had died in Assiah but was resurrected in Hades, and I snuck out of Hades to come here."

"That was YOU?" Several voices asked.

"You ran out of Hades?" Rujiel cried. "Nyssa, the girl's mad. No other way around it."

Nyssa's green eyes traveled to Rujiel, and she shrugged. Meanwhile, Nema stood straight and stiff on the soapbox, enduring the incredulous remarks directed at her. "We had heard of a lucky little I-Child that had been granted such safety. For a week, Nema, you had been the subject of much envy, though we didn't even know your name."

"I'm not anyone you need to envy." Nema said plainly.

"Maybe so, but now I feel compelled to ask: Why have you left Hades to come to this poor excuse for Heaven?"

Here it was, the moment Nema could boldly state her wild, ambitious dream. "I came to start a…" What? A war? Somehow the word didn't fully express her intentions. "… A revolution."

The initial reaction was not one Nema would have liked, though it was impossible to expect every I-Child to come to arms within the very second the idea was mentioned. Many eyes, mostly pairs of red, but a few pairs of other colors widened in shock. Others in the back looked down. Rujiel blatantly laughed behind a pale fist, and Nyssa merely arched a brow. "A rebellion."

"More than a rebellion. I want change." Nema defended herself swiftly.

"And what good can we do against troops like those Hunters?" Nyssa spoke so plainly it sent chills down Nema's spine, but she shook it off, gripping the Angel Crystal cross tightly in her closed fist.

"How will you know if you don't try?"

"Oh, but we have tried."

"Then what made you stop?"

At last Nyssa paused, appearing to chew on the answer thoughfully. Finally, Rujiel answered for her. "… It was short lived."

"Then I say you haven't tried hard enough!" Nema said firmly, the edges of the cross in her hand biting into her white flesh. "If anything is short lived, it hasn't lived long enough!"

"Then what do you propose we do?" Nyssa asked.

"It isn't obvious? Don't you know that you do have White Wing ALLIES? Call them together! Seek their guidance, and they can train you! If you weren't ready for war before, you will be then!" Had they never considered that idea before? Were they so sure that all White Wings were only scum?

"The Anima Mundi…" Nema heard the little girl named Lilliel say softly.

Again Rujiel snorted. "And who? Raziel, that traitor? Nema, ignore my little sister. She wishes the Anima Mundi were still around."

"We all do…" Lilliel toyed with the bow keeping her mini-crown in place and looked over her shoulder at her older brother.

"… Who are these people?" Nema asked the room, and to her surprise several began speaking in turns.

"The Anima Mundi were a rebel group. They, with your father, deleted God from the system!"

"Raziel-sama, as their leader, was put to power!"

"Yeah, I know that much!" Nema said, holding her arms out to quiet the sudden racket she had spurred.

"And you know that Raziel-sama integrated God back into the system?" Nyssa asked.

"Yes."

"Then you know only book knowledge. Now we share with you the things WE know, the things the White Wings refuse to believe because they think we are liars!" Nema could hear a low snarl starting in Nyssa's throat. "The truth of it all is, Raziel-sama is an I-Child…! Many of our kind were even IN the Anima Mundi! When he was put into power, we expected freedom! We had stars in our eyes, just like you!"

Then Rujiel began speaking for Nyssa. "Not more than one month into his reign, he decided to reprogram God, and HE says he's being safe, but WE say he's a coward and a LIAR. The I-Children in the Anima Mundi left him. In this room alone there are ten former members of the Anima Mundi! Reduced to THIS because Raziel is being 'safe'!" Rujiel spat.

"Raziel-sama is a Rabbit?" Nema asked incredulously. "He looks nothing like one!"

"What, those white wings of his? Fortunate genetic altering thanks to those cruel experiments they performed on him! But he seems to have forgotten that. He seems to have forgotten US!"

"Then we will FORGET Raziel-sama for now!" Nema reasoned quickly. "We have remaining bits of a rebel force? And White Wing allies? And you're not using ANY of these resources to your advantage?" Nema scoffed. "And you all think I'm mad…!"

"What's the point in fighting, when we tried once and failed?" Nyssa snapped from her position standing before Nema.

"You want a point? Go to those God forsaken fields I came back from! Look for the body of a little girl named Isobelle! There's your point! If you won't fight for yourselves, fight for the honor of your dead!"

The stirring within the room of I-Children became filled with questioning voices. The most heartbreaking of these poor people was Lilliel, who blinked up with wide, surprisingly pale pink eyes and asked, "Isobelle is dead?"

"My baby is dead…!" Isobelle's mother cried from her spot in the doorway. "I had Nema perform a mercy killing…! To save my poor little baby…!"

The stirring turned from shock to anger; even Nyssa and Rujiel looked heated with news of what may have been yet another death out of many. Nema gripped the Angel Crystal cross one more time, praying now more than ever for her Angel, even if her Angel was a White Wing chained up in prison, to let the right words slip out of her mouth. "For too long you've let them get away with spilling the blood of your kin! They think that because their wings are white, they can get away with murder! Can they? Only if we can, too! I'm not wishing a plague on their innocent. I'm not nearly as heartless as THEY are! But I will gladly… GLADLY rupture the hearts of their corrupt! I will hunt them down EACH day, just as they have with us… and I will destroy them for the ones like Isobelle!"

Nema stood proudly now, as they room full of dark-winged, pale-bodied people let out another angry cry, but it was louder, more fierce than any Nema had heard so far. "You may sit down and turn away if that is what you honestly wish to do. But I believe that deep down you ALL are tired of being kicked at, spit on, raped and murdered! Tell me if you are!"

This time Rujiel wore a crooked, but impressed smile and held up a fist with the vast majority of the room. Even Nyssa managed a nod.

"Then we won't WAIT anymore! I ask the former members of Anima Mundi to put your talents to good use! EVERYONE who knows of a White Wing ally, call them to us! We'll give 'em Hell… we'll make Rabbit Hunter blood rain down from the skies!"

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Michael was getting plain sick of the restraints and the monotonous patterns the filled his days. His brain was resorting to having the most messed up dreams in attempts to entertain his bored self, though he had to admit this last one was most exciting. It was fast-paced dream, a fiery dream, full of blood. It was some strange battle amongst people, but he could only make out white wings and black ones. He himself was locked in what he could safely say was one of the best battles of his life, but it was only when he was pinned and staring at an Angel Crystal blade pointed between his eyes that he could make out his opponent. It was Nema, looking bloodied and disheveled, but somehow she had never looked sexier to a man like Michael. "Heh…! You've gotten better!" The Fire Angel said ceremoniously.

"Michael-sama."

Oh, damn that fucking icy voice of Cheriour's…! Some day, one day soon, Michael would bust out of this prison, and when that happened, Cheriour BETTER wish he was FAR away from him!

For now, the safety of Angel Crystal-coated glass saved Cheriour from any bodily harm. "I see you have been sleeping well."

"Yeah what the fuck do you want?" Michael snapped bitterly, tugging on his chains.

"I have come with some news I know you are bound to regret."

"Well why don't you throw it at me and we'll see how much I fucking regret it?" He wondered if he sounded too smug. He probably did. But the thing was, Michael wasn't sure if he really COULD regret much of anything, considering that Nema was now completely, utterly untouchable, living in Hades, waiting for him.

"Among the body count for the first half of today, I found the body of Mudou Nemaelle."

Michael suddenly burst into laughter. Well, if that wasn't a complete lie, he didn't know what was! Nema… dead! What kind of stupid trick was Cheriour trying to pull? Well, he wasn't fooling Michael. Even if Michael decided to tell Cheriour where Nema was, Cheriour couldn't touch her! Hah! Fucking brilliant! He OUGHT to hang that kind of bait just out of Cheriour's reach. What was Cheriour gonna do? Run up to his room and cry his icy little heart out?

"… So it seems that you do not regret the death."

"YOU ARE A FUCKING IDIOT!" Michael half-coughed, half-yelled triumphantly in his laughter.

Cheriour's lips lifted in an icy smile, though Michael was willing to believe that just maybe his hidden eyes were expressing worry. "…Am I?" His voice shook just slightly with hints of his own laughter.

Michael ignored him. "I have no fucking CLUE what you're trying to do, but Nema isn't dead, you fucking LIAR!"

"… And you would know this… how?"

"Heh! This is too fucking priceless. Fine, I'll tell you! Nema isn't dead because I KNOW where she is! You wanna know where she is? I think I'll fucking tell you! She's in Hades, asshole! Hah! Try and hunt her now!" Oh, that felt just too good…! How sweet it was to punch a decently sized dent into whatever Cheriour's scheme was! How fucking perfect, after all the shit he'd gotten away with! "So tell me, how shitty do you feel now that you're up-to-date on what's going on?"

But Cheriour did not seem in the least bit surprised. "With all due respect, Michael-sama, I believe that you are the one that is missing a piece of information."

"Really?" Michael said carelessly, chuckling to himself, still reveling in the verbal blow he threw at Cheriour.

"Bring him in." Cheriour said placidly, and in walked Raphael, has face belying some cross between fear, anger, and regret.

Michael ignored this, too. "Raphael! Come and join the party! This prick is trying to mix up shit again, and we've got him cornered!"

"Again, with all due respect, Michael-sama… I believe that a different person is cornered." Cheriour said.

"Oh, FUCK YOU!" Michael exclaimed with glee. "… What the fuck is with the long face, Raphael?"

The Wind Angel had a hard time starting. "Michael… Nema… isn't in Hades, anymore."

The words were said quietly, but they stabbed into Michael's moment of fun and twisted inside of him. "… NANI?"

Raphael shook his head. "Michael I am SO sorry… I can't express that enough –"

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?"

"She ran, Michael! She ran off! You have to understand… she started reading about I-Children… and I swear I've never seen her so angry! She was talking war, Michael…! We're sure she ran up here!"

Nema talking war… Nema running off… these all sounded like things Nema would indeed do, but Michael refused to buy into it. "Those are fucking lies! Haven't you checked anywhere else?"

"EVERYWHERE! All of Assiah, and I even got connections to HELL through Setsuna. She is NO WHERE ELSE. She HAS to be here!" Raphael cried, exasperated. He watched Michael fuming in his chains, bright green eyes burning right through Raphael's head. "Michael, I am so… sorry…"

"Allow me to cut into this melodramatic moment." Cheriour said coldly. "I can further prove that Nema was indeed in Heaven, for my Hunters killed her. If it will grant you any solace, it is to my understanding that she was hard to kill. At one point as many as ten Hunters were after her…! A record, to let you know. She DOUBLED the last record of Most Hunters Needed to Kill a Rabbit. She will live on in history; this much I know."

Raphael's mouth curled into a tight scowl as he looked down and away, clearly disgusted with Cheriour. Michael was not any less disgusted, but was too busy maintaining his short, erratic breaths again. This was NOT how this was supposed to work at all. He was supposed to break out, rip Cheriour to pieces, scoop up Nema, and begin wreaking the havoc only he and Nema could possibly make as a duo. THAT was the ending. The happy fucking ending! There was NO OTHER fucking option! But here it was, a completely different path, laid out before him as though it were the only way to go. What kind of cruel world was it, anyway…?

"So, tell me… how shitty do you feel now that you're up-to-date on what's going on?"

That did it. Michael screamed bloody murder, and for white felt like several minutes he was unable to be seen, lost in a room filled to the brim with flames.

"You have to wonder why he does that whenever he's about to hyperventilate. It will just make it worse." Cheriour said boredly.

"I guess that's something only people with hearts can understand, then." Raphael said in a low hiss.

Cheriour only seemed to find that comment amusing. "If you can still hear me, Michael-sama, I would like to let you know that in spite of her death you are still to be charged with your sin. You will still be branded Fallen, and your rank as War Angel will probably be passed on to me."

The flames licking Michael's cell died down dramatically. "And you can rot in Hell!"

Cheriour ignored the Fire Angel's remark. "I would like to let you know that, considering this recent event, I am willing to let you go through a sort of 'community service,' if you will, to clear your sins."

Raphael didn't like the sound of this already. "It's some kind of trap, Mika-chan! Don't take it!"

"This is Michael's decision, not yours." Cheriour said to the Wind Angel. "I would like to make a request to use you."

"Use me? Didn't know you were gay, Cheriour!" Michael sneered.

"I will overlook that remark. Now, you see, I am only doing this out of kindness…"

"Out with it already!" Michael snapped bitterly. To be honest, he wanted them both to leave. He was getting sick of being alone so much, but with this news at hand, oh God, he wanted very badly to be left alone.

"Very well. If you become one of my Rabbit Hunters for a certain number of kills, I will grant you freedom. We can pretend that Nema never happened."

Pretend that Nema never happened. That was so much easier said than done. He could've made this proposal a year ago, and Michael would've taken it with pleasure. Now, it hurt to consider that idea. Pretending Nema wasn't real. Pretending he'd never had to watch over her, or fight for her, or… anything. It was no different than the day he'd finally realized that he would have to try and kill his own older brother… it was a very specific pain, one that made him feel cheated and stuck. So stuck. "… How many kills?"

"Michael!" Raphael scolded in shock. There was no way he was seriously considering on taking up this deal. It wasn't worth it. The freedom wasn't worth it if it came with that kind of burden… pretending someone he loved was never real! It wasn't even REAL freedom!

Cheriour simply smiled that cruel smile of his. "It is a decently sized number, but upon consideration that you successfully killed 100 of my Hunters during those few Sunday night fights you created, I know it is a number you can reach with ease."

"What. Number." Michael said through gritted teeth.

"777."

"You think you're fucking funny?" Both Archangels swore at once.

"My, I hear an echo." Cheriour commented. "Seven hundred and seventy seven is a good, strong number. And a truly Heavenly number, obviously. So yes, 777."

It frightened Raphael to watch Michael lower his head and sigh. He was seriously thinking about doing this! "Michael, don't do it!"

"Ignore Raphael-sama. This is your decision to make and yours alone!"

"You'll be killing Nema's people!"

"Nema? Who is Nema?" Cheriour asked coldly.

"Nema isn't nonexistent yet! Michael, if Nema saw you killing her people, how do you think she'd feel?" He watched Michael close bright green, angry eyes. "… Is it worth knowing she would HATE you for it?"

Cheriour sighed. "If we must consider Nemaelle, who is a dead girl, mind you, then consider this, Michael-sama. There is no point in being guilty for a sin you can never fulfill again. Do you suppose that Nemaelle would want you branded Fallen, when you will never see her again, and never touch her again? Would she want that kind of burden placed on you?"

It seemed like a very, very long time was passing by, but still all three Angels remained in their positions. Michael couldn't decide what the apparently murdered Nema would want him to do. Would she selflessly want him to move on with a cleared name? Would she haunt him in anger if he chose to kill her kind? Well, at least she would be haunting him. Oh God, either way she would be haunting him, with or without his wings turning black…! No matter what he did, he surely lost. And wasn't that the story of his life, anyway? When it came to the things that REALLY mattered… the things he eventually cared for… Those were the things that always went away. But… at least one thing COULD always stay.

A pair of white wings. The ONLY thing that ever stayed.

"… I'll do it."

Raphael was completely silent, but then Michael had the slamming of a door, and knew he'd left being much less than happy. When he finally looked up, Cheriour smiled icily. "Until your 777th kill, you realize that I am your superior, Michael." He no longer addressed him as Michael-sama. And that was okay. Michael wasn't even sure if he deserved that title, anyway. Not anymore.

Michael responded with a simple nod. Within two seconds, two Rabbit Hunters appeared, one of them unlocking his chains, and the both of them following him out of his cell.

It felt very odd and wrong, leaving his cell. He had hated that place with a passion for so long… But as he left, a part of him wanted to throw itself back inside. Wishing he never had to make this decision. Wishing Nema were still here. Damn her! Fucking fool! Why did she run? If she'd wanted a war, he could start ten for her the very moment they were together! A whole world of wars, just for her, if that's all she actually wanted!

"Let the Heavens know that the Archangel Michael, as of today, has become a Rabbit Hunter." Cheriour announced to all the Hunters in the hall. It was the ugliest thing Michael had ever heard. "And now, for you." He held out a black cloak to the red-headed Angel. "Put it on, and let everyone know whose side you are truly on."

Michael stared and stared at the black cloak, and then felt the fabric fall onto his hands as he took it. It was lightweight, airy, but as dark as the imaginary void Michael felt himself slipping into. It was completely ugly because of what it symbolized at this moment… but Michael slipped it on.

A great, ugly cry of celebration echoed in this great, ugly hallway. But in Michael's blue-green eyes, nothing, nothing at all, was as ugly was himself, right at this very moment.

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AUTHORESS NOTE: It is GENUINELY pissing me off how everything is keeping me away from "Impy." I'm just glad I shot all my finals in the head. Spring Break is coming up, and though I have heard that I am going to be working for a lot of it, this SHOULD still mean that I'll have more time for my preciousssss… "IMPY!"

Yes, I am more than certain you all HATE me now, don't you? MWAHAHAHAH! Michael needs a hug. Everyone should give him a hug, even if he's wearing that evil cloak, now!

And I finally mentioned SOMETHING about Raziel! And I am sure that a lot of you are going, "WTF, he's a TRAITOR?" Well, he's not, really, but you'll understand it one day. I'll make sure you do.

Also, if Nema's wartime speech has shades of "The Boondock Saints" and their final prayer/speech in it… well, I'm just gonna tell you that I KNOW. It just seemed like a very NEMA kind of thing, so I tweaked it and had her say it? Is that a problem? Are BOTH Kaori Yuki AND Troy Duffy gonna KILL me? If they do, then "Impy" will be on PERMANENT hiatus! Can't have that, can we?

That's what I thought.


	20. Chapter 20

AUTHORESS NOTE: Just a random pondering… It's the twentieth chapter! And the original manga didn't last any longer than that! Well, actually, if I turned "Impy" into a manga, how many books do you think it would be? Hmm… That's some food for thought.

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty_

By: Brenli

Uriel sighed. "I would say the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree, but that applies to children, not their parents."

As Setsuna's vision slowly cleared, he looked up at the faces of Uriel and Doll. Then he heard a familiar voice from further away.

"If you're smart, you won't try that again. You ruined my morning." It was the voice of Lucifer, though to Setsuna he was still Kira, in a strange light.

Setsuna laughed. "You know it was funny…!"

"I don't appreciate being sexually assaulted by a friend. I have a wife for that." Lucifer said dully, though his mouth did curve into a very slight sort of smile.

"In any case, say hello to your new body. Try to keep this one, Setsuna. I don't think Alexiel would appreciate you popping back into her without warning." Uriel stepped back to allow Setsuna to sit up and take the mirror Doll offered, letting him touch the perfectly replicated flesh-plant body Setsuna now possessed.

"No, I really wouldn't." She said, though she wore a lop-sided smile. "Even if I do like your company."

Setsuna laughed again and hopped off the table he had previously laid on, stretching out, and hopping again. He was fairly certain he looked like a fool, but he just didn't care. "It feels so good to be young again! Thank you, Uriel!"

Uriel arched a dark, albeit amused, brow. "You were creeping up on 50 as a human. Did you assume I'd spend my time with making bodies that are over the hill?"

"Setsuna, you are young again!"

Setsuna turned to see that beautiful, blue-haired Angel he had fallen in love with. "Sara! You have blue hair!"

The pair embraced as Raphael entered, following Sara. "Look, a reunion. It's about time we had some happiness. I'm so sick of everything else right now…" He said somberly as Setsuna and Sara, in their new bodies, embraced.

"Doll, please find Barbiel. Tell her Raphael is here." Uriel asked his maid, and she bowed cheerfully and went off. "Have you found Nema?"

Raphael shook his head, sitting down on the edge of the table and running his hands down his peeved face. He didn't really know how to say the bad news he had, so he began with casual conversation. "… So what do we call you now, Water Angel? Sara or Jibril?"

Sara, or Jibril, paused. "… Either name is fine. Why do you look so stressed? The search party has just gotten bigger."

"That's not what I'm stressed about…" Raphael looked up to see, of all people, Alexiel and Lucifer, standing quite calmly and apart from the group. "… Even you received the memo?" He knew he sounded cruel, but he didn't care. He wondered if he was being smart about dealing with Lucifer. Was it really a good idea to mouth off to a man like him?

He was fortunate that Lucifer seemed a bit too listless to be offended. In fact, the dark king seemed very mildly amused, as another barely-there smile touched his cold features. "I do make it a point to check up on my surrogate niece, you see. I have been hearing bad news, lately. It's unfortunate to see that apparently the news is true."

The group watched Alexiel brush the dark waves of her hair behind her shoulder. Even now it was awkward to be around Alexiel, though each person had his or her own separate reasons. But then, after she had been successfully separated from Setsuna, she had more or less disappeared from everyone. Rumors grew that she had settled with Lucifer and taken on the title of dark queen, but it was only at this moment that they finally realized that it was very true. "So we hear she is trying to start a war? Is that true?"

Raphael snorted, but Uriel answered for him, his green eyes finding it hard to focus on Alexiel. "… She did conjure up that idea, before she left. I suspect she will try to get rid of the Rabbit Hunting campaign, first."

"First?"

"… I wouldn't be surprised if she tried to get rid of God."

"Atta girl." Lucifer's semi-smile suddenly grew into a wide smirk, and Alexiel nodded with him. "A niece after my own heart."

"Well if you are so in favor of Nema's idea, why didn't you take God out a second time?" Setsuna asked, a bit of a frown pasted on his younger face.

It was no big secret between any of the people in this room that putting God back into the system had been a discouraging action in their eyes, though none of them chose to speak of it. It made each and every one of them feel as though their struggles were for nothing. All the fruits of their labor deleted after little more than one month under the rule of an Angel they were sure would uphold their ideal. Well, it was said that he may have claimed to have the same ideals as before… a world without God. It was also said that he was too young to be an effective ruler. Regardless, once each person had learned that God was reprogrammed, it was more or less expected that Lucifer would, quite literally, raise Hell. And he hadn't budged. And now the dark king scowled and said in a low hiss, "You know, I helped you once, and you threw it all in my face. If you are going to be so stupid and bow to Him again, fine. I warned you all, anyway. And it seems it's hitting you all again, isn't it? So now you ask me, 'why didn't you kill Him off?'" He scoffed coldly. "It is your problem, now. I have removed myself from Heaven, and this time I will keep it that way."

"It seems that you have a new warrior fighting for that cause, anyway." Alexiel offered, but Raphael shot it down.

"We might not."

Several pairs of eyes turned toward the stressed Wind Angel. "… What?" Sara asked quietly.

"… I… heard that Nema might have… been killed by a Rabbit Hunter."

The news settled over the group like a heavy blanket, each dealing with it in his or her own way. While Lucifer and Alexiel remained quiet and blank, Uriel opted to become more occupied with brushing stray dust off the table, and Setsuna and Sara could only blink in disbelief. Setsuna managed to mutter, after several seconds of silence, "… You don't know that for sure…"

"I can't find her." Raphael spilled quickly, as though this were the only reasoning he needed. He wasn't even done with the bad news, but he didn't know how to get it out in the open at all.

"… We… we can find her! For the last time, stop acting so glum! We'll go back up and keep looking!" Sara said desperately, blinking back worried, motherly tears. "We'll even get Michael in on this!"

Raphael felt like tearing his golden hair out of his head. "No, we won't."

Setsuna laughed a short, disbelieving, though unhappy laugh. "Why would you ever think that he –"

"HE IS A RABBIT HUNTER, NOW!" Raphael spat it all out. There. Right out in the open.

"… What?" To everyone's surprise it was Lucifer, and not anyone else, that said this.

"Cheriour said Nema was KILLED… and he offered to let Michael walk free if he became a Rabbit Hunter. He's doing it." Raphael said behind the hands that rubbed down his face.

"… That's just like him, too. Over emotional idiot." Lucifer said darkly. He appeared to want to say more, but a loud screeching scream rang out, and in rushed Doll, pulling Barbiel behind her.

"URIEL-SAMA!" Doll cried, "HE'S HERE! AND HE'S ANGRY!"

The Earth Angel frowned thoughtfully, "… Who?"

The question was answered as a man with blonde hair cut to the shoulders rushed in, his eyes aflame.

Setsuna blinked rapidly, fearing how everyone, including Sara, stepped away from him. "K… Katou…!"

"You." Katou pointed an angry finger at Setsuna and ran at him, slamming him in the ground, where Katou proceeded to get Setsuna into a head lock and roughly mess with his hair. "YOU INCONSIDERATE BASTARD! DON'T YOU KNOW I WAS CLEAN FOR TWO FULL YEARS? TWO FUCKING YEARS! I WAS GETTIN' SOMEWHERE!" He snarled. "But NOOOOO, you've gotta go commit suicide! You forget I'm tied to you? YOU FUCKING KILLED ME, TOO! GOD DAMMIT, I WAS EATING CEREAL! I WANT MY FUCKING CEREAL!"

"… I… forgot…" Setsuna choked.

"DAMN RIGHT YOU DID! TAKE THAT, AND THAT, AND THAT!" Katou repetitively flicked poor Setsuna's forehead, spurring "ows" from the pinned man. Finally he smiled and let Setsuna go. "There. Now I'm over it. At least I'm young again."

"… Good…" Setsuna muttered between coughs.

Uriel arched a dark brow. "… Aren't you supposed to be dead? Probably reincarnated by now?"

"That's what we thought." Sara said dryly. "About a week after we went back to Assiah, we find him in our front yard, spun out."

"Hmm…" Uriel said thoughtfully. "Well, Katou, you are quite an oddity."

"Yeah, but I thought you already knew that." Katou said as he moved to pick up the mirror Setsuna had previously been using, but Doll quickly snatched it away.

"Uriel-sama said that I should offer this mirror to Setsuna, not to the likes of YOU!" Doll snapped irritably.

Katou blinked rapidly and held up his hands. "Well, now, excuse me, I'd forgotten Uri Uri had you around, you cute little priss!" He grinned at the fuming Doll and surveyed the miserable crowd. "… Hey, it's KIRA!" He ran up to his childhood friend and did the unthinkable. He gave Lucifer a big old hug. "Look at your gloomy ass self! How've you been?"

"Gloomy." Lucifer drawled, but the barely-there smile touched his lips again.

"Well it's good to see someone's happy." Raphael mumbled moodily, allowing Barbiel to lean against his tense frame. "… I'm going to keep searching. I suggest we all do. But even if Nema is alive… for now… Michael is an enemy."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"… Oh boy, this is awkward." Nema mumbled to herself as she stepped into – or was rather forced into – a large, beaten metal tub, filled with heated water.

"You don't appreciate the bath?" Nyssa said dully, as she draped a short robe over a box near to them.

"I don't appreciate the… open… ness…" Nema replied, pointing a pale finger at the numerous females and the open doorway through which I-Children – of EITHER gender – had the ability to see her.

"Well, when you win us real homes, you won't have to worry about this, now will you?"

Nema began washing the blood off her body and asked, quite honestly, "Nyssa, what do have against me?"

"I have nothing against you. But you are an inexperienced girl with very big dreams. I wonder if you know what you are getting into." Nyssa picked up Nema's bloodied clothes and gave them to another woman for washing.

"Then I'll learn as I go along." Nema said firmly.

"Don't mind Nyssa. She's just annoyed that everyone is comparing you to her former self."

Nyssa scowled. "Lilliel, you ought to watch your tongue, you know. That honesty of yours is brutal."

The little girl shrugged, her pink eyes blinking up at Nema. "… Excuse me…"

Nema offered the girl a kind smile. "Yes?"

"I was wondering… if you knew how to make mini-crowns…" Lilliel tapped her broken crown. The cross at the top had snapped and was hanging, barely attached.

"I can try to fix it if you'd like me to. All that needs is glue."

Lilliel smiled and bowed. "Thank you."

"… Here." Nema reached over the side of the tub and picked up her crown, taking off Lilliel's and tying hers onto Lilliel's head of ivory curls. "Wear mine until I get this one fixed."

Nema watched the little girl giggle and hop in a dirtied, lavender dress touched up in pink. It was a cute lolita dress accented with pearl buttons and white lace, but it lacked a petticoat, and the dark red mini-crown did not match the dress one bit, but Lilliel seemed happy enough. "Wait till I show them!" Lilliel cried and skipped off.

"… You're a hit with the kids already. They all want to wear your mini-crown. If you're not careful they're going to break it." Nyssa told Nema as she offered her a half-used bottle of shampoo.

"I'll just fix it, then. That crown's been through more Hell than I ever imagined it would." Nema shrugged it off, and then she called out to the washing lady, "Be careful with the skirt! The mending is fragile; I need to reinforce it!"

"… You kill Rabbit Hunters, start wars, sew, and make mini-crowns. Is there anything you can't do, kid?" It was, to Nema's partial horror, Rujiel's voice.

"RUJIEL!" Nema cried, crossing her pale arms over her equally pale chest. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

"Would you relax? Do you have three breasts or something?" Rujiel shrugged and picked up the black, man-tailored shirt that had yet to be washed.

"PUT THAT DOWN!" Nema screeched defensively.

"Get out of that tub and make me." Rujiel smirked, arching a brow at her suggestively.

Nema quickly noted that out of the blue, she was being hit on… though she could have sworn that Rujiel, more or less, was against her. She could hardly say that she was used to any of THAT kind of attention, though Jinho had discreetly flirted with her on his visit, and though Michael had his OWN very… VERY… messed up way of flirting, too, if the training sessions that Nema had realized were semi-intimate counted. This was different. This was distinctly different. This was a bold, honest pass at her. Nema decided to glare daggers at Rujiel and leave it at that.

"… You do know this is a man's shirt, right? Nyssa, I think she really is mad." Rujiel fiddled with the shirt, trying it on, oblivious to Nema's ruby-red death glare. "Not a bad fit… What's this?" The remants of Nema's rosary, her Angel Crystal cross, dropped out of the shirt pocket.

"WOULD YOU TAKE OFF THAT SHIRT? IT'S NOT YOURS!" Nema hissed, finished with her bath but not wanting to give Rujiel an eyeful. "Drop it! That's not yours, either!" She cried as Rujiel picked up the cross.

"Is this supposed to be your earring?" Rujiel asked idly, examining it. "The post broke off?"

"My earring?"

"Even we I-Children have at least one cross earring that we wear in our left ear. It is rare to see any Angel without one. The very poorest make theirs out of wood." Nyssa explained, beckoning Rujiel to come closer. Rujiel complied until Nema splashed water at his feet.

"What the fuck?" Rujiel actually swore for once.

"I don't want you seeing more than you ought to!" She replied, and Nyssa sighed.

"Rujiel, please close your eyes."

"Oh for –" Rujiel closed his garnet eyes, allowing Nema to dry herself off and throw on the short, white robe.

"You may open them, now."

Rujiel pressed the cross into Nyssa's pale hand, lingering just enough for Nema to wonder before Nyssa pulled her hand back. "… It wasn't an earring. It was part of a rosary my dad gave me."

"The beading shows that." Nyssa nodded. "… Angel Crystal. I can think of only one time this wasn't used in Heaven's prisons."

"What would that be?"

"The sword known as Nanatsusaya is rumored to be made of Angel Crystal… Alexiel… and your father wielded Nanatsusaya. While I doubt you'd come into possession of it while your father is still alive…"

"… What?"

Nyssa shrugged. "I don't know. I have some experience with metal working and have scraps lying around. Are your ears pierced?"

Nema tugged on her pale ear lobes. "Both of them."

"Well you only need the one, but good. If you'd like I'll make this into an earring for you."

Nema rung out her snowy hair, still dripping wet with water, and let a small smile cross her confused lips. It was a kind offer from a woman she wasn't sure liked her much, so she gracefully accepted it. "… That would be nice. Thank you." Then she turned her red eyes to Rujiel. "For the last time TAKE the damn shirt off! It's not yours!"

"Why are you wearing a man's shirt?" Rujiel asked plainly.

"That's none of your business! Take it OFF!" Nema tugged on the collar of the black shirt, forcing it down Rujiel's white arms.

"You're undressing me?" Rujiel said suggestively, enduring the sharp slap Nema delivered.

"Stop being so fucking horny! Could've sworn you HATED me at first!"

Rujiel only smirked at her, finally slipping the shirt off and offering it to her. Nema quickly snatched it from his grasp and spinning away from him. She made it a point to slap his face with her wet, ivory strands. "Well I don't think I deserved THAT if you already slapped me…!" Rujiel grumbled and finally left.

"… He likes you." Nyssa said dully, toying with the Angel Crystal cross in her hands.

"It SHOWS!" Nema fumed. "What is it with the guys I meet? They all have to piss me off before they show any interest!"

A wry smile curled on Nyssa's lips. "I can't say this for any other man you have met, but Rujiel has always been that way. Since we were children, the only women he ever liked were the ones that could stand to talk him down." Nyssa paused, seeming to focus intently on the intricate carving of the cross. "… He is a childhood friend from when I was thirteen. He used to battle with another man for my attention… he lost. Since then he has seemed to take interest in the other women, though none of them, as far as I know, are his type. I am sure he is relieved that you have come along."

"Hmph!" Nema mumbled as she took the simple, black shirt and pants being offered to her and, a little awkwardly, took off the robe and slipped the clothes on. "… I am unavailable."

"Is that so?" Nyssa's smile grew a little wider, but it lacked the usual coldness and became more girlish, curious. Nema chewed thoughtfully on her thoughts. Had Nyssa REALLY 'lost her marbles'? She hardly SEEMED insane. "… May I ask who's claimed the heart of this Messiah-in-training?"

"… I'd rather not say." Nema said quietly, slipping Michael's shirt on over her plain black shirt and stepping into her knee-high boots.

"I am not going to judge you for who you might be involved with. Believe me, I have already learned how cruel passing such judgment can be."

As sweet as the statement was, Nema couldn't believe her. Here she was in a group of people that hated White Wings, with very few exceptions, and here she was, in love with one in spite of the fact that she had ALREADY successfully started up a war. "… Are they?"

"Are who?" Nyssa asked and she began shooing away the cleaning lady and leading Nema into a long tunnel. "Can you tell me here?"

"… Where are we going?"

"To my room. They prefer I stay away from the pack, you see. I am a crazy person." Nyssa said with a kind of disappointed laughter. "So tell me?"

"… I don't know if you will even believe me."

"Your father is the Messiah according to you, and I believe that." Nyssa plainly stated.

"… Why do they think you're insane, anyway?"

"I will tell you all you wish to know, when you tell me what I wish to know."

Nema sighed and entered a low doorway concealed with a plain, dark gray sheet. Nyssa's room was spacious, and sparsely decorated with old furniture that was somehow still intact. Nema noted that two swords were mounted on Nyssa's wall, and on the bedside table were a few jewelry hooks and needle nose pliers, perfect for constructing an earring or two. Nyssa flopped down onto her shaky bed, but Nema sat on the ground, her head leaning onto the bedside table. "… I have a Guardian Angel –"

"Had." Nyssa quickly corrected. "Once you are recognized as an Angel, your Guardian Angel is relieved of those duties."

Nema frowned, but nodded. "I… HAD… a Guardian Angel, who protected me on Assiah, when the Rabbit Hunting spread down there. We… have fallen in love."

"It is a shared love?"

"Yes."

"Sweet… and tragic. I am assuming he is one of our allies, at least, but even so…" Nyssa said softly. "Out of curiosity, may I know his name?"

"… Michael."

The silence was too loud for Nema, and her eyes moved away from her lap and up to Nyssa. Her bright green eyes stared, unblinking, at her. "… The Archangel Michael is of too high a rank to be given such a task."

Nema shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. He was my Guardian Angel."

"… Hmm." Nyssa nodded and sat back. "What a strange thing… You disapprove of Rujiel's interest, yet you openly admit to being in love with Michael, who, from what I have heard, is much worse than Rujiel."

"Well I'm with him, so I don't know what to tell you…!" Nema tried to swallow the tone of exasperation, and Nyssa held up her hands.

"I told you I would not judge you. Don't be so defensive." Nyssa smiled. "So will Michael the War Angel be joining us, then? I think we may stand a chance, with that kind of power."

Nema smiled and nodded. "We would need to bust him out of prison first."

"… Oh, he was caught."

"Yes."

"That is unfortunate…"

"Yes." Nema repeated quietly.

"… So I suppose it is my turn to answer your question. You wanted to know why they believe I am insane." Nema only nodded silently. "… I have already told you that Rujiel lost me to another man. This man… was a good I-Child. I can't say much for him now, but at the time he was a good man. … I admit he was an easily depressed man. He did not refuse the oppression of the I-Children, but accepted it as a dark, sad way of life… In spite of this I did love him. I had wanted to bear his children. And in a way, I still love him, no matter how evil he has become… See, Nema, I do understand what it is to love someone cruel. So be assured I won't judge you."

Nema nodded again, feeling a little better that Nyssa had affirmed that she could count on Nyssa as a confidante. "… But what is his name?"

"… His name, at birth, was Ashriel. He goes by a different name, now."

"What name?"

"Cheriour."


	21. Chapter 21

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty One_

By: Brenli

Cheriour. That terrible Angel that was out to ruin the life of every I-Child, and whatever White Wing stood in his path. The Angel that had locked Michael away. The Angel that had raped her.

"… Not the one…"

"The very same."

Nema stared with unblinking eyes. "… That makes… absolutely no sense, Nyssa…"

"Then you will write me off as a loon, as well? And maybe that's fine. You have to keep good face if you want to make this little war of yours happen." Nyssa was back to sounding distant and cold.

"Don't talk like that. But listen to yourself…! How can an I-Child become a Rabbit Hunter?"

"You know of an Adolf Hitler, if you are from Assiah. They say he was part-Jewish."

"That was a rumor, and it's been proven false before." Nema reasoned.

"… I understand that the situation is unreal. Believe me, at the time I hadn't been able to swallow it."

"… He doesn't even LOOK like an I-Child…!"

"Not ALL I-Children look like lab rats. My eyes are green. Isobelle's eyes were purple. Some of Rujiel's hair is black. We are still I-Children… But I will admit that Cheriour's appearance is the result of his own modifications. The problem is that he removed himself from this group of I-Children when he was finally full grown. He was brave, and moved above ground. I came with him, so only I know… it was small, at first. He grew his hair out. It covered his eyes, and to be honest I thought it was sexy. Then he began dying it all sorts of colors. Black, brown, red once. Then he settled for blonde. I'd thought nothing of this either, but then… he began to bleach his wings. He's done it so often now that you would have to look closely to see that his wings are actually a bit ashy…"

Nema wasn't sure if Nyssa realized that she was gripping the Angel Crystal cross to the point where her already white knuckles were becoming unbelievably lighter, or that she was beginning to rock as she let the story fall away from her, or that she had stopped blinking.

Now Nema was able to see why the other I-Children may have considered Nyssa to be off her rocker. When she wasn't speaking of this strange tale, she seemed normal, but if one made her bring it up, she was gone.

Nema wasn't sure if she really had any right to think this. Maybe it was just heartbreak. Heartbreak was a maddening thing, in its own right… Hadn't heartbreak successfully turned Nema into a sniffling, sneezing wreck that cried for hours in the shower?

But somehow… Nyssa was still successfully managing to look like a Grade-A loon. "He kept telling me ugly things…" Nyssa babbled now, "That we are ugly, pitiful things… That we have no right to breathe… That we take up too much space… He claimed that though he was lowly, he would… fix things. He did. I tried to make him change his mind, you know… I did try. The next day he was gone, gone. I tell you, I was HEARTBROKEN. I didn't understand… Then he started forming a large group… and I knew we had to fight against it, right? And I did. I did so hard, but I didn't… didn't want to hurt him. But one day, I fought the whole day without seeing him, and when I came back here… I saw the whole place… in SHAMBLES… and I didn't understand… Then I asked Rujiel… He told me… he told me that a White Wing with blonde hair covering his eyes had attacked… and… and… killed my mother and father… and had raped my little sister and killed her, too. He said the killer called himself Cheriour." Finally Nyssa blinked. "… I guess… it is too unreal. Please understand it's not really Cheriour that I love. I love Ashriel. It is a shame that Ashriel is lost inside that new man."

Nema stood, now, unsure of what to say. Nyssa was coming back down from the post-traumatic moment she had just endured, when a white fist poked out from the edge of Nyssa's gray doorway sheet and knocked on the wall. "They told me I'd find you both here…" Rujiel said as he let himself in, and Nema watched his red eyes lock on Nyssa and narrow. "Whoa, are you okay?" He took several steps closer to Nyssa, and for that split second it seemed that Rujiel had actually forgotten Nema. Nema watched Nyssa nod to him, and wondered if in spite of Rujiel's blatant attraction to Nema, he still carried a soft spot for Nyssa.

Rujiel smiled after a while, mumbling a quiet, "Okay." Then he turned to Nema. "My little sister thanks you ten times over for the mini-crown loan… None of the other kids believe you gave it to her, and they're calling her a petty thief."

Nema's lips turned up into a small smile. "You want me to clarify that Lilliel's not a thief?"

"And while we're at it I'll show you around?"

Nema really didn't like the sound of that much. Sure, she was only acquainted with two rooms, thus far, but she would've rather had Nyssa show her than Rujiel… Rujiel… was making it sound practically like a date.

Nyssa was not helping her. "You need to go get Neriel and her sisters, too, Rujiel… Perhaps Nema can follow you there?"

"Maybe you can come with us?" Nema offered, trying her hardest to bury her urgency out of her voice.

"No, I've got an earring to make and a headache to get rid of…" Nyssa said softly, holding up Nema's Angel Crystal cross and examining it once again.

"It'll be dark, soon… I guess we can't waste any time. We'll go straight to Neriel…" Rujiel seemed oblivious to the flinching of Nema's body as he reached for her elbow. "Let's go."

Nema lightly, though deliberately, shook off Rujiel's hand and stepped through the doorflap, Rujiel following two steps behind. It was too much like the old days… When Michael would follow two steps behind…

She stopped and allowed Rujiel to lead the way this time, and now she felt a little better.

"Nema!" Lilliel cried, her pink eyes happy to see her. "Go ahead and tell them!"

Nema laughed and tapped the tip of the dark red mini-crown, "Lilliel here has full rights to my mini-crown until I fix hers. She never stole it."

The two older I-Children left, both retaining wide smiles as Lilliel stood regally and shouted, "HAH! I TOLD YOU ALL!"

It was quiet for a long part of the way. At least on Nema's part. "Don't think I'll have time to show you much… The system down here is based off a simple grid, but it's huge. If you're looking to go above ground, you'll look for a tunnel marked like this…" He pointed at a sketch of two lines arching from a cross, drawn in white chalk. "These are safe. They'll take you up to an old building or some other safe place like that. Anything else might take you out in the open; you'd have to be a fool to use them." Rujiel snickered. "But I guess that wouldn't stop you, would it?"

"No, but I'll heed your word."

"What's this? You're not gonna talk back to me?"

"Why, does that turn you on?" Nema couldn't help but snap.

Rujiel's eyes reflected what little light was in the tunnel they were in as they blinked rapidly. "NO! I'm not that weird!"

"Nyssa made you sound a bit like that." Nema said as she began climbing up the poor excuse for a stairway up to the surface.

"Nyssa?" Rujiel said incredulously. "… Why was she talking about me?" Nema said nothing, but Rujiel excused it. "… Well, it DOESN'T turn me on, Nema…! At the most it makes me laugh, that's it!"

It wasn't until they were halfway up the stairway that Rujiel began talking again. "… I want the woman I spend the rest of my life with to have… a voice. A lot of women in Heaven are too quiet… They don't question what a man says, especially if they're lovers… I don't want that. If I tell a girl I like, 'You're a lunatic!' I want her to get mad and tell me she isn't, or at least call me a lunatic right back. I want her to stand up for herself…" After another long pause he said quietly, "That's what a real woman is like. That's how I want the woman I care for to be."

Oh boy, if things weren't awkward already…! Now Rujiel was actually being HEARTFELT about it! "… I'm already with someone." She said the words slowly. She had never, EVER in her life had to turn down someone's proposal, before. It was more awkward than letting Rujiel talk like he had.

"… Oh." Rujiel said flatly. "… So is he a White Wing? Or a human? Or, what? The Devil?"

Nema laughed. "I think of Lucifer in more uncle-like terms, thank you. He is a White Wing."

"… Ah. I swear I think the White Wing guys always get lucky with the best I-Child girls…!" Rujiel grumbled as they left the rundown building the tunnel had led to and snuck into an alleyway. "When are the guy Rabbits gonna get any attention…? Seriously..!" He spoke in a raspy whisper now, and led Nema to the end of the alleyway. They were looking at the field.

"Your father wasn't an I-Child?" Nema asked.

"Nope. A proud White Wing. Hence my hair." He pointed at one of the black locks. "As for Lilliel… she is a spitting image of our mother, pink eyes and all."

"And Nyssa?"

"She is Assiah born. She lived in the United States… You know the place?"

"No one in Assiah DOESN'T know the States, Rujiel…"

"Hey, just checking!" Rujiel held up his hands, helplessly. "… She moved here when she was thirteen, when her father, a human, died." He pointed out to the field. "Here's the tricky part. We've gotta beat wings and fly our fastest over ALL that distance and go into the forest."

Nema nodded and shrugged, silent as they sped across the field and into the brush.

"Lucky we didn't get caught… So, anyway, that's where her eyes come from. Her father." Rujiel finally finished.

"Rujiel?"

"Yup?"

"… I asked Nyssa why everyone thinks she is insane…"

"… Oh." Rujiel's voice dropped to a sad flatness. "… Do you believe her?"

"I don't know…"

Rujiel seemed extremely uncomfortable, now. "… Don't know if I do, either." He began leading Nema through the thick trees, keeping low. "Most of us… we just think that a Rabbit Hunter killed Ashriel, and that it more or less traumatized her… Once her family was killed, she just gave up, and her attempt at a rebellion faded." Nema listened to his voice began to tighten and crack, but he tried to cover it up with a cough. "Did she tell you? I wanted to date her."

"… She did."

Rujiel chuckled shortly. "She was a beautiful girl… I think she was all I really could have asked for. But we were all young… I think she thought Ashriel was safe. I was a delinquent and a loud mouth where Ashriel was orderly and well-mannered. A gentleman… and I'm sure that, at the time, she probably liked that most. When I heard she'd be moving away to live with him… I couldn't help myself. I told her that I loved her…"

Nema hardly enjoyed all this talk about heartbreak, but she let him leak it all out, anyway. "What did she say?"

"Nothing. She said nothing… And I said I was sorry and left."

"… So do you still love her, then?" As sad as that may have been, she hoped he did. She hoped he'd never stop loving Nyssa, so that – selfishly, she'd admit – she didn't have to worry about Rujiel being all TOO serious about any passes he might make in the future.

He had to stop walking to think about that. "… I don't know. In a way, I do… but she isn't the same girl, anymore. Cheriour and his Rabbit Hunters… they took the Nyssa I loved away." He concealed a bit of sadness with another cough. "But you move on… I mean, I will always care about her, but the truth of it all is, I can't love her as she is, now… I… have to let her go, because she's not herself, anymore… Get DOWN!" Rujiel's white hand firmly placed itself on top of Nema's head and forced her onto the ground, though they were already nearly crawling about.

"What?" Nema hissed in a whisper as she fought to look over the edge of the vegetation before them.

"Shh! Hunters…" Rujiel clasped a hand over Nema's mouth, then bit back a cry. "Ow, shit!" Nema had bitten him.

Her ruby glare focused first on Rujiel and then rose over the edge of the brush… And at that moment, the anger was replaced with wide-eyed, open-mouthed shock and disbelief. "That's… that's…!"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Tonight, Michael, we shall have you perform a sort of initiation into our group. There are a group of three Rabbit girls that we have discovered bravely taking trips down into Assiah… As though the Rabbit Hunting were mere myth! Goodness, that kind of idiocy does not pay off. And tonight, you shall show them that, as twenty of my best Rabbit Hunters and I watch you. It will be a delicious show, we all imagine. I look forward to counting you as the 21st of my favorite Hunters."

Cheriour had said these words coldly, yet they maintained a sort of glee, as though this was going to be the best party as of that night. That was some hours ago. The Fire Angel nodded sluggishly at the time, and the sneaky march to the location of Michael's first victims felt too long. His sword felt heavier than usual. No one spoke to him, and he spoke to no one. They had formed a black-cloaked barrier around him as they proceeded. Were they afraid he'd run off? Did they not realize that it took one second to burn them all down? Well, he wasn't going to. He'd thought this through. He didn't WANT to do this, but he was going on the assumption that Nema would want to keep his wings white. So he'd do it, he'd kill 777 times, but once that last kill was made, he was going to burn this disgusting cloak that settled over his adolescent frame. He was going to go back to his home, and his army of men, and he was going to bury himself in his room for a very, very long time. If he had his way, he wasn't going to come back out. Ever.

This was also some hours ago. A few minutes ago he had rushed into the scene with his trusty sword brandished. He was disgusted. He knew they were female, but he was assuming they were at least well-trained women, women that could put up a fight. They were weak girls, girly girls. One of them appeared to be little more than nine years old, and they were all wearing kimono… I-Children taking visits down to Japan, then. It was a shame that Nema would never meet them.

When it came to things like battles and killing, Michael had this handy ability to turn off his conscience. Usually the only problem was that he couldn't ever turn it back on, for some reason. Right now the horrible problem was that he couldn't turn it off, now. This was an initiation? Picking off innocent girls? And young girls, too. They were hardly worth his time. They didn't deserve to die. Two of them, the younger ones out of these three, couldn't even speak in Heavenly tongues. Assiah born girls, who hadn't even properly awoken, yet…! Definitely not worth his time. They could go back to Assiah and pretend to be albino humans, and that could've been that. And here they were. What horrible luck.

As of this moment the only one that could speak in Heavenly tongues was pleading with him. "Please…! Please, spare them, at least! You could put them back in Kyoto… they'll never awaken!"

"I know." Michael said coldly. It was never in his nature to sound this icy. It made him think of his brother. But this seemed to be the only tone he could take, right now.

The audience was watching him, waiting for him to make his move. As if this was the most exciting thing in the world. Feh. This was going to be the dullest thing ever. But Michael supposed that was why they were just Rabbit Hunters. They weren't interested in the thrill of the fight. They just wanted these poor people dead.

He had to get this over with. It was almost over before Michael had taken another breath… It was easier to pick off the older ones for some reason. The second one to go had begged in rushed, anxious Japanese, but all the time he had spent on Assiah made him fluent. He understood every single word, and the Rabbit Hunters were urging him on, "Do her in! She can't even speak right!" Well, she could speak right. Her Japanese was flawless, even as it trembled in fear. It was very formal in spite of the urgency of the situation. She must have been a poet… Michael swung his bloody blade once to scare her into silence, and listened to her cry his name, for even among the downtrodden he was well-known and revered.

"Michael-samaaaaa…!"

Oh God, she did not just say that, she did not drag out the last syllable…! That was too painful. It made him stop.

"What the fuck are you waiting for? Do her in!" The Hunters cried.

So he drew in a shaky breath and closed his eyes, feeling the blade of his sword slice cleanly through the middle of her, the scream lasting for a slight second after the impact. Now the youngest girl was screaming in her place.

This was hard. This was way too hard. He had to tune all of this out…! Why couldn't he just shut off his stupid conscience? Why couldn't he be the way he was before the Rabbit Hunting, before he'd actually fallen in love with… HER! Why couldn't he just forget her for a few small moments? Just a few! Wasn't it ENOUGH to know he would never forget her, Nema, his violent Queen? His Queen, no more!

The Fire Angel screamed and rushed forward, swinging the sword down. He hit dirt. He'd missed! The little girl ran and was begging in Japanese… oh, those words she was saying! He wished he didn't understand, he wished so bad…! Those words were too heartbreaking! Tune it out, tune it out…

Just get it over with. He was making this more difficult than it needed to be.

He scooped up this screaming little girl. By this point he had forgotten it WAS a little girl… thank God. He'd shut off that bothersome conscience. Now, it was easy as ever to take this sobbing little girl by the throat and pin her against the rough bark of the nearest tree. And it was easy to take the bloody blade and push it right through the little girl's heart.

Michael opened his eyes and stared into hers… big, ruby eyes, reflecting light, fear, and sadness. She should've been gone by now, but she said a few more words in the only tongue she knew… No one understood but him. "… But I haven't done anything wrong…"

"I know!" Michael yelled, and in a flash his sword left her chest and reconnected with her neck.

He took several steps back and allowed the body and head to fall and land with dull thuds. See? Dull. So dull. No fight in any of that, at all.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Nema…! Nema, wait!" Rujiel was calling in whispers, chasing after Nema, but she failed to hear him.

She wasn't gonna cry. Nope. She wasn't going to. That hadn't happened. Hah! What was all that? That was just pretend. She wasn't gonna cry. Nope. It wasn't real…! Even if it was, well, that wasn't Michael! Nope! Nope, nope, 'cause Michael was all locked up. He was more likely playing a harmonica. Yup. 'Cause that's what you do in jail. You play harmonicas, and you don't run around in black cloaks killing I-Children. 'Course not. So she wasn't gonna cry, she wasn't gonna. Even if it looked like him, even if that was his red hair, and his tattoo, and his sword… Okay, maybe it was him, but she wasn't gonna cry! Nope! Michael always WAS an asshole, anyway! She always KNEW he was so fucking heartless! And she didn't love him, anyway, so there! She wasn't gonna cry!

Oh, who was she kidding?

So many things did not add up and it seemed that in the face of such a disturbing event, Nema's body had some kind of natural compass. Without Rujiel's help, she'd found her way to the right building, the right tunnel, and, finally, Nyssa's room. Because she was not acquainted with any other room that could possibly be even a little private.

Nyssa was not there, for whatever reason. And that was fine. That was fucking PERFECT. Nema needed to be alone.

She wasn't alone. Rujiel remained two steps behind her the whole way, even into Nyssa's currently empty room. "Nema, are you okay? You're acting like you've never seen someone die, before!"

And that was supposed to make it OKAY to see THAT MAN killing people that looked like HER? "FUCK YOU!" Nema hissed, rushing blindly at Rujiel. She hit him. Oh, she hit him hard, and she enjoyed it. The tears blurred her vision. It was easy to pretend that Rujiel's body was Michael's body, even if Rujiel was taller than Michael. That's okay. He'd have to do. Good Lord, Nema wanted to beat the SHIT out of Micheal, right now!

"Ow, fuck, Nema, stop it!"Rujiel struggled against the blows delivered by this wild, angry Nema. "NEMA!" He pushed her and watched her trip and land on Nyssa's bed, where she curled up into a tight ball… and sobbed her heart out. It was a long, miserable cry.

"… What did you do?"

Rujiel's garnet eyes locked on Nyssa, standing in the doorframe. "… Neriel and the others are dead."

"… I see." Nyssa held out Nema's new cross earring and let Rujiel take it. "Her room is the vacant one next to yours."

"… That room is huge."

"And she is our new war leader. It fits." Nyssa said. Though her room was being rudely invaded, she excused it. "Nema." She called out to the crying wreck on her bed. "Was it him?"

"Fuck you…" Nema cursed. So what if Nyssa was being gentle about it, or even letting Nema sob all over her blankets? Nema was fucking sick right now. She needed to be left alone!

"… Hmm." Nyssa said, very obviously unaffected by the offensive language. "Rujiel," she whispered to him, "I'll be in the soapbox room. You've been… very forward with her. She has too much on her plate. Be selfless. She is untouchable."

"All of the women I care for are untouchable." Rujiel said dryly.

"Care for? And think, you've only known her one day…" Nyssa mused and left.

Rujiel would admit it. He had wanted Nyssa to find his comment insensitive and offensive. He had wanted her to hit him for it… but he knew the Nyssa he cared for was long gone. Rujiel turned to look at Nema, who was now standing on the opposite side of the bed, the dark sleeves of Michael's shirt wildly rubbing over her red eyes. "So the man you were with…" He met Nema's fiery gaze with a calm, sad one. "… was Michael?"

Nema couldn't even stand to hear his name, anymore… She couldn't stand to wear his shirt, anymore! Angrily, she pulled the black fabric off of her, balled it up, threw it on the ground. It landed with the most satisfying thud, but that just made her want to cry some more. She couldn't stand to wear it but she felt naked without it…! She was so gone. She dropped to the floor, her white arms crossing over Nyssa's simple mattress, her face disappearing in them. "I swear you think you KNOW a person…!" She sobbed. "… What the Hell was all that? What the Hell was it?"

She was being unbelievably loud, and it was late. People were trying to sleep. So Rujiel quietly shushed her and went to join this poor, betrayed wreck, kneeling beside her. "Nema, it's okay…"

"This is not fucking okay."

"Shh, please, listen to me. There are a lot of other women here who can relate to you… So many of them get involved with White Wing men, only to have them leave and hurt them… It's evil, but it's not new…"

Nema slapped away the hand that brushed her hair behind her ears. "Stop talking like you KNOW everything! You don't! You think you know what he did for me? You think that what I saw makes SENSE? Fuck you, Rujiel!"

"I'm sure he could've sworn to marry you, even, and it would still sound sadly normal…" Rujiel only flinched slightly as Nema's hand raised up. "Go ahead."

… Nema couldn't do it. He wasn't the man she wanted to hit. So that pale hand of hers returned to its normal spot, and she blinked aside two more cheated tears. "Those girls were speaking Japanese… That little girl… She kept telling him, 'I'm sorry… I won't become a Rabbit…'" This time she allowed Rujiel to push her snowy hair back behind her ears. "… He killed her, anyway."

"Nema, I don't know how long you've known him, or how much he made you think he loves you, or that he would never hurt you… But that's the thing with White Wings. We have learned that… too many times, already. Even my mother knew." Rujiel watched Nema slowly wind down into subdued depression.

"He left her?"

"Yes."

"And Lilliel?"

"She is my half-sister. Her father… killed my mother last year. I have been her sole guardian since then."

Nema finally allowed the physical and emotional toils to weigh down on her and press her onto the edge of Nyssa's mattress. "Gomen nasai…"

"It's okay." To Nema's tired, albeit curious glance, he answered, "Neriel taught me a little Japanese once. Just for fun."

Nema nodded silently. She didn't even know what to say, anymore. She was angry, and sad, and she finally realized she was pretty tired, too. She had gone through… a very long, troublesome day. She needed to sleep.

She didn't mind when Rujiel reached forward to slip her new earring into her pierced ear. "… I think you now have an earring that will rival any White Wing's, Nema." And she didn't mind when he took her hands and helped her stand. Or when he picked up Michael's shirt. Or when he escorted her to her new room, apparently placed next to his.

She had too many other things to mind, anyway… At least he was offering some genuine comfort in a world like this… a world where words like, 'God, I think I've fallen in love with her,' mean nothing at all…

"… If Lilliel says something about you becoming her older sister, you can tell her to stop. She's still young. She thinks its fun to set me up with people. You are definitely on her list." Rujiel said in a half-whisper.

"… I won't mind. She is a cute kid."

"Nema." It was Nyssa's voice that called out. "Former members of the Anima Mundi have been talking. They want to have a conference with you tomorrow. Get this started right away."

Oh, yes. That war. She had started that, hadn't she? And she'd be fighting… against HIM. That… White Wing liar and traitor. "Good to know." She said flatly. She was done crying, but she still wanted to be alone. So she took her shirt from Rujiel's grasp and marched into her new room, shutting the strange kind of rickety door she had. But at least she had a door.

"… And only earlier I had fondly believed that we might have had Michael on our side." Nyssa said softly.

"No. We are never, ever that lucky." Rujiel replied, and escorted Nyssa to her room. He watched her walk before him, her snowy hair brushing along her back. He missed her, even if she was little more than two steps away. He missed her so much he was beginning to see the lost parts of her in other women. Women like Nema. "… I'm sorry."

Nyssa had stopped before the doorflap to her room. "What for? Have you done something I should know about?"

"No, no…" Rujiel sighed. "I'm sorry… about Ashriel. Regardless of what really happened."

She turned to smile at him, and the shine of tears were unmistakable in her bright green eyes. "… I know you don't believe me… But thank you, anyway. It has been a long time since I have felt… that kind of compassion."

That was that. Now there was no one to spend any amount of time with, and he was alone with his lonely thoughts. So he went back to his room, his fingers lightly brushing along Nema's door in idleness. He could hear her sniffling.

To his surprise, Lilliel was still awake as he entered the room.

"Hi!" She greeted him happily, gripping Nema's mini-crown in her little white hands.

"Shh, Lilliel!" Rujiel scolded, "People are trying to sleep!"

The little girl giggled and held one and over her mouth as Rujiel kicked off his boots and slid into his bed. Lilliel followed suit and got into her own bed, set across the room from his. "So how is Neriel?"

"… Neriel… won't be coming here, anymore."

"… Oh." Lilliel said quietly, soberly. "… That's, what? The tenth death today? Just out of the people we know?"

"… You shouldn't keep count, Lilliel. That's too morbid for a girl your age. A girl your age should be interested in dresses and dolls and boys. Or fistfights and bugs and boys. Whichever suits you."

"Or fistfights and dresses and boys, like Nema."

Rujiel managed a smile. "… Yes, you can mix it up, too, if you want."

"… Hey, brother?"

"Yes?"

"… Nema's really gonna do it, isn't she? She's really gonna start a war."

"Yes… yes, I believe she will."

"I'm glad. I was sad when Nyssa stopped fighting."

"Nyssa isn't the same anymore…"

"No…" Lilliel agreed quietly. "Nema is a lot like how Nyssa used to be."

"Yes, she is."

"I like Nema. Do you?"

"I do…" Rujiel said tiredly.

"… You know what would be cool? It would be cool if Nema became my older sister. I really mean it, this time. I think Nema would be an awesome older sister. She could be like… that one big word, shuroget. My… shuroget mother."

"… Surrogate." Rujiel corrected quietly. "… A surrogate mother."

"Yeah, surrogate. A surrogate mother and the coolest older sister, ever."

"… Shh. It's time for sleep."


	22. Chapter 22

AUTHORESS NOTE: Yeahhh twenty two! I had never ever imagined "Impy" getting this far…! Actually, I had no idea how big "Impy" was ever going to become in GENERAL… And I only started this on a whim! (Well, Ametriney persuaded me to do it)

Anyway, I have fast forwarded time by three months in this chapter, not that you really need me to tell you here, but I'm telling you, anyway. I have been having a hard time trying to describe Nema's "battle dress" (Yes, she battles in a dress. That's what makes her so awesome. She can kick ass… in a DRESS).

Now, is being cruel about the images thing... So I'm gonna try to make a loophole... Type in "i m g . p h o t o b u c k e t . c o m /" (get rid of the spaces between each letter and symbol) & "albums/" & "v66/"& "brenli/"and then follow it up with ninjaloli.jpg. (Yes, I am desperate)

This is what I call the infamous Ninja Loli dress. Nema's battle dress is styled in this manner, however the skirt is longer, falling to mid-calf, and she does not wear those fishnets or those shoes, just her trademark boots. And, of course, a black mini-crown. Why does she cover her face? Read and find out.

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty Two_

By: Brenli

"Oh, lookie, lookie! She kept that one alive!"

"I wonder why…?"

"That's enough now. The Queen will properly deal with this one… Run along. You shouldn't be here."

"'Kay Nyssa…"

The prisoner swallowed the lump in his throat as he strained in his binds. The blindfold over his eyes prevented him from seeing anything, though he smelt the scent of death nearby, and heard the pitter-patter of children's feet fading off into the distance.

"Your name?"

The Angel prisoner shuddered in blind panic. He hadn't heard a new person enter the room, much less come so close to him.

"Save your fear for a little later." The voice said again, and he felt the blindfold loosen and fall away from him. He stared into a pair of ruby red eyes, though the rest of her face was covered by the black cloth of a most peculiar dress. Her eyes crinkled, and it might have been in friendliness. It might have.

"You are… the Queen…"

"I might be." The Queen replied, her pale hand brushing over her black mini-crown. "Your name?" She asked again.

The Angel only let out a shocked and disgusted yell as his gaze quickly shifted to the source of the death smell. It was a fellow Hunter, the one that had the misfortune of being captured with him… several parts of him… simply missing. Massive holes that looked like the result of internal explosion covered his body, but the most gruesome was the head, from which suspicious gray matter could be seen.

"… Oh, yeah. That one." The Queen said boredly, and she tore a black blanket off a simple chair and draped it over the body. "Now, then." She turned and folded her hands together. "Your name?"

The Angel prisoner still refused to speak, as he absorbed the surroundings of this one room. The lighting was dim, though it seemed that this was by choice, and the point was… there was lighting. And the floors and walls were smooth. And they had furniture! And real, strong chains to bind him with! He was merely in a torture room, but the point was that this was a torture room that could rival some of Cheriour's… All in a few months time. It took one voice, the voice of a Rabbit girl that the I-Children referred to only as their Queen, to put enough spirits into this ghostly pale group to turn what must have been dirty, ugly, shitty rooms into… THIS. Granted it took former Anima Mundi members and White Wing allies… and clever thievery… to get the finances to make this possible… but it was done. In a few months time. Thanks to the voice of this woman.

She was an incredibly short woman, for a Rabbit OR an Angel. But she seemed appropriately dressed, as a Queen. Even with her face mostly hidden behind the peculiarly cut black cloth. It was said, through snippets of information overheard, that she was incredibly kind to her allies… and a complete death threat to her foes. It was said that anyone who made it to her particular hideout could not possibly make it back out without losing their eyes, tongue, and hands… if they got out, at all. Even worse, it was said that it was guaranteed death if one ever actually saw her face.

It hadn't always been this way. Before, it was a game, Rabbit Hunting. It literally was hunting. Now… it was a full blown war. They were no longer hidden; everyone knew where they were, but it was Hell to try to get very far into their territory… Oh God… they could FIGHT.

The Angel endured a sharp slap. "I am a busy girl. Give me your name."

"Why should I give my name to a monster like you?" The Angel spat. This time, he did not receive a slap.

"That's easy. I like to get acquainted with my victims before they're unable to talk." She spoke casually as she sat in a chair.

"… So it's true. You really will take out my tongue."

"If I feel like it."

"You… are a fucking monster!"

"And whose fault is that?" The Queen suddenly snapped. "We weren't always this way. We were kind people. We are the REAL Angels…! It was your kind that took it so far. NOW we are fucking monsters! NOW we are something for you to fear! Just like you wanted." She stood now, and looked over at another I-Child, this one with green eyes. "Camera?"

"Ready." The green-eyed girl said.

"Perfect."

Suddenly there was a sharp pressure in his chest, around his heart and lungs. It wasn't a pressing or a pulling… it was distinctly different… Like he had something inside, and it was pushing out.

"You look like you are in so much pain…!" The Queen said cruelly from behind him, and she bent over, took her fingers, and forced his lips back in a grimace. "Smile big!" The flash blinded him, and he had to blink rapidly to clear his vision. He looked up at the Queen, arching his brows in confusion.

"What was that f… God, no!" He suddenly begged.

Her fingers were curled over the edge of her raised neckline, slowly pulling down, revealing the Queen's face, Nema's face. "God?" She said with a smile, and blew a kiss as his chest cavity ruptured, and blood sprayed from his body.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"… My daughter has gone insane." Setsuna said miserably.

"Yeah, well, it figures, if ya look at her lineage." Katou shrugged as he lit a cigarette. He looked up to see Setsuna glaring quite crossly at him. "What? Look, ya wanna know my take on it?"

"… Sure, while we're here." Setsuna mumbled. He was sitting in Hades, having come back from yet another unsuccessful attempt at wiping away some of Nema's anger. Three months. For three months now, Nema had waged a war that was proving very successful. But she did all this angrily, when the goal was peace…

"Look, Nema's fucking pissed and ya know, she's got every right to be, and in war, people die, right? So let Nema kill off the Rabbit Hunting jerks. They aren't the type that oughta be walking around, anyway, you know?"

"Well I'm not saying that people don't die in war, Katou. But she's letting her anger get the best of her. If she doesn't stop, one day she's gonna look back and regret how cruel she was."

"That I doubt." Katou snorted. "Like I said. They aren't the type that oughta be walking around, anyway. Now, when the Hell are you gonna take me up there to visit her, huh? So far it's just you and Sara, you and Sara… You gotta take me, man! The last time she saw me was forever ago!"

"If Nema's got any good sense, she wouldn't want to see you, anyway!" Doll said crossly as she made an entrance with a tray of tea and cookies. "And it's not like it's YOUR business…" Doll made a face at Katou, "But Uriel-sama told me that Setsuna ought to know… Lucifer is thinking about joining the Revolution!"

Both men's mouths dropped open. "Didn't Mr. Gloomy Pants say he wasn't getting involved?" Katou blew smoke in Doll's face.

"If you don't stop that I WILL hit you…!" Doll threatened. "Apparently he's thinking about changing his mind. I guess he… I don't know… likes Nema's 'style'… whatever that means."

Setsuna sighed again as Katou laughed. "What'd I tell ya, huh, Setsuna?"

They watched Setsuna leave, shaking his troubled head. "… Now look what you've done! You've spoiled his appetite!"

"Excuse me? 'Spoiled his appetite'? Who says that anymore, 'cept stuffy old women?" Katou shrugged. "Look, Setsuna's just being a dad. But he needs to know that sometimes dads have to let their kids do what they wanna do. They've gotta learn on their own. Meanwhile… more cookies for me." Katou ground his cigarette into the tray and picked up a cookie. "This'll make up for the cereal I lost."

"You pig!" Doll snapped, disgusted…especially when she noticed the pictures that Katou had placed in a pile on the table. The very top picture was an image of a girl wearing nothing but baby blue high heels and a white, super-sheer robe, left open and flying behind her as she smiled gleefully, the dark curls of her hair shining away… her hair was curiously like Doll's own hair, though considerably shorter, as hers stopped at her shoulders and Doll's continued to fall to her waist. "… Why are you looking at PORN here? I should take those to Uriel-sama at once!"

Katou simply laughed. "If Uri Uri has good taste he'll like these! And this isn't PORN! These are classy, I'll have ya know! Look at 'em!" And against Doll's wishes, he spread them out on the table.

He seemed right… in a way. Only a few of these pictures portrayed nudity. In the rest, she was fully clothed, whether she looked playfully innocent or strangely devilish. "… Hmph! Who is that?"

"My wife in another life, kid. My wife in another life." Katou munched on his cookie happily. "Tellin' ya, they made her too early, man… That right there? That's a real woman."

Doll arched curious brows at him. "Made her too early?"

"Oh she's too old by now. Probably married and stuff." Katou shrugged. "Her name is Bettie Page… Betcha you'd kill to look like her, huh?"

"What? You think I'm some kind of easy girl? I don't WANT to look like this weird Bettie person!" Doll cried, her dark eyes blinking rapidly.

Katou smiled at her. It was… a creepy smile. Not in any potentially hazardous way, but it made Doll feel like he knew something she didn't. "… Eh. Suit yourself." Katou shrugged and picked up the whole plate of cookies. "Thanks for the food." Then he was gone.

"… Thanks for letting the tea go cold! You perverted, rude… PIG!" Doll said acidly. Hmph! 'Betcha you'd kill to look like her'? Goodness, no! This Bettie Page person, she was cute and all, but it wasn't like DOLL was gonna try to run away all… IN THE NUDE, just a pair of… high heels! Goodness, goodness no! "Hmph! And he even just left these here! What a messy person!" The little maid began to tidy up the pictures of Bettie. You know… just to make it look at least a LITTLE neater.

PURELY out of idleness Doll looked at the image placed on top. Bettie was wearing a tiny, red gingham crop top, tied into a tight knot between her breasts, and a pair of dark blue denim capris. She was running down the shoreline of a beach, the water splashing at her toes as she carried her white high heels in one hand. She had a big old grin on her face… she seemed positively happy with her life.

Doll looked left. Then she looked right. Then she took the picture and quickly shuffled off, leaving the tea behind.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Shit, run!"

Oh, yes. That was exactly what Michael needed to hear. If they were running, there would be less struggle for when he took them down. It would be quick, and simple an hour or so he would finally end the day and get some blood drawn, and he would sleep. Oh God, he would sleep.

Three months. Three months, and suddenly, they were at war. Normally Michael would have loved this. He loved war. It provided the kind of rush he'd needed to be happy, but this… this was different. Each face he got rid of reminded him of the woman who made peace… an okay thing. They were all too pale. There were as pale… as HER. For a while, this fact had made it DAMN hard for the Fire Angel to kill these people. With the proper mental tweakings, he decided that maybe it WAS better that way. If he got rid of them right away, he wouldn't need to look at them… and think of her. It was twisted and cruel, he knew, but this was the life that, at least for now, he had been sucked into. He had to recall earlier days… when he was this heartless and he didn't care. He had to pour his heart into that… and pretend that Nema never happened.

And sure. Maybe at the end of the day, when Cheriour stuck a needle in his arm and drew blood, maybe then it hurt. Maybe when he passed up and fell asleep, he had… dreams and nightmares. And maybe, he woke up in a cold sweat because of it. But these were things that no one else needed to know, just like no one needed to know that Cheriour was stealing bits of Michael's blood. Why? This was a bit of a mystery to Michael, as well. In his three months as a Rabbit Hunter, and in particular one of Cheriour's very favorites, he had noticed that Cheriour was more than a little superstitious. He took such terms as 'it's in his blood,' literally, and he seemed to think that Michael's power was in his blood. And maybe it was, or maybe it wasn't. Michael didn't know and didn't care. If it was, Cheriour was going to have a merry old time using it like fuel for some kind of… pit, apparently? Michael couldn't remember, but he tried to as he stepped on and crushed one of the runaway Rabbits' ankles. Yes, it as some kind of pit. Cheriour had this strange idea to try and devise a wild chase… turning the Rabbits into buffalo… and chasing them right into a pit. Why was his blood needed for this? He didn't know. He didn't really care. If it happened, he hoped the bodies would count and get him much MUCH closer to 777. Already, several bodies had been excused as 'mercy killings,' and not 'an act in favor of the views supported by Rabbit Hunters.' He should have been at 200 or so. Cheriour knocked him down to… what was the number? 112, as of the moment?

No. He took off the fallen Rabbit's head. So that was 113, then.

"No, stop, please!" The second Rabbit begged. "Look… look, what do you want? I'll get you whatever you want! Please spare me!"

Well if that wasn't the most pathetic thing Michael had ever heard…! It didn't matter if he was a Rabbit or not. In GENERAL, that was the most pathetic thing Michael could have expected to hear from a fighter. It was enough to make this death somewhat excusable!

But, fine, whatever. What did Michael want? Not anything that this Rabbit could give. Well, maybe there was something he could do that would at least benefit Cheriour. And he might as well. Michael did NOTHING for himself, anymore.

"… Tell me who this… Queen of yours is."

The Rabbit's eyes widened. "I can't do that. She has made each of us swear not to tell!"

"Then say goodnight."

"WAIT!" The Rabbit held up an arm, as if this would shield him from the blow of Michael's sword. "If you want… I can take you to her…! And she can show you her face if she that's what she honestly wants to do!"

Show her face…? Oh yes, other Hunters that had seen her once said that she kept her face hidden. This was all Michael had ever heard of this… Queen of theirs. That she was faceless. Also… that she was uniquely deadly.

If Michael took him up on this offer, he would be late for Cheriour's blood-drawing. He also couldn't be sure if he was walking right into a trap. This Rabbit was going to take him into the heart of Rabbit territory. It would be Hell to get back out, if they decided to kill him off. But the Fire Angel would take that chance.

"All right. But don't you fucking pull some stunt…!"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"You know, you don't have to wear that dress, anymore, Nema!" Rujiel commented as he watched her push her needle through dark red fabric.

"I'm a bit too lazy to change back out. Why? Does this dress scare you?"

"I can't see your face…"

Nema only shrugged. "… So?"

"So, I don't know…" Rujiel responded with a shrug of his own and sat down in front of her, watching her creation come to life. It was a lovely little lolita dress, dark red with pink around the neck and sleeves. The front of the skirt opened up to reveal ruffles layered over ruffles of even more pink. It was in Lilliel's measurements… and it became obvious that Nema was planning on letting Lilliel keep her dark red mini-crown, and was making a dress that would match it and compliment Lilliel's eyes at the same time.

"… Do you think I should have used different material? This cotton is heavy. It will be too warm to wear at times." Nema said idly, cheerfully. It was hard to believe that only a moment ago she had literally broken the heart of a White Wing prisoner.

It was a morbid joke, in Rujiel's eyes. Nema, a heartbreaker. He wasn't sure if Nema had meant for it to look like such a joke, but it looked like that to him. For the past three months they had maintained a friendship… now and then Rujiel got away with some mild flirtations. In spite of that, Nema was still fairly distant… her mind on other things.

Psh. Her mind was still on HIM. And Rujiel swore it damn near torn him up inside. Nema, having feelings for a Rabbit Hunter! "… If you make that dress for her, she's never going to stop trying to put us together."

"She never stops to begin with. And it's not like it's REALLY something you dislike, anyway." Nema said the words plainly, honestly. She knew where Rujiel stood. Rujiel wanted her so bad she had the poor man wrapped around her little white finger. Not that Nema wanted him there. He more or less took up that position on his own.

Now that three months had passed, Nema had finally gotten used to the idea of herself being desirable. It was hard to not get that impression when girls and women wore fancier clothing when they were not fighting, or when all the little boys regarded her as the example of a perfect wife. Hah! Perfect. She was hardly perfect. She would accept attractive, now. But never 'perfect.' "… As it is, Lilliel will never let my mini-crown go. I've seen the way she clings to that thing… So she should at least have a dress that matches it."

"Nema."

"Rujiel." Her childish grin was concealed behind black cloth.

Rujiel sighed dramatically. "What are you, five?"

"And a half."

Rujiel shook his head, spurring laughs from Nema. "Nema, it's been three months…"

Nema knew what was coming next, and the cheer in her ruby eyes quickly left.

"I know you've told me not to impose…!" Rujiel quickly stated. "But… please hear me out. Three months… that's enough time to know if you really want to be with someone, or if it's just…"

"A tiny crush."

"Yeah. And… it's been three months, and…"

"… I can't."

"Why?" Rujiel took Nema's sewing away from her. "Nema… he's not coming back to you."

He watched her eyes narrow considerably. "What makes you think this is even ABOUT him?"

Rujiel reached out and pulled down the fabric that covered her face, letting it rest under her chin. Her bottom lip was quivering, and he pointed at her face. "That's how I know."

Nema quickly covered her face again. "Rujiel –"

"Please. Don't make me get on my knees and beg." Rujiel said quietly. "I know he hurt you… I'm not… I'm not asking you to forget him, 'cause I know you can't…! Can you at least… let me take care of you? I want to take care of you, Nema. I want to make you feel better."

A cough from the doorway interrupted this highly uncomfortable decision. "I am sorry for interrupting."

Rujiel turned wide eyes up at Nyssa, and then quickly looked away.

"That's fine, Nyssa. The discussion was going to end, anyway." Nema said quietly. She knew that was a definite dagger in Rujiel's heart. She had to do it. Rujiel was picking up on and playing off of her loneliness, and if she ever gave in… it would not be because she cared about him. It would be because she missed someone else.

Nema's ears could hear murmurs of praise and awe beginning to make its way to her room. "You have… a most interesting visitor." Nyssa moved aside and let the visitor in.

Nema stood up with wide red eyes. "… Ki…"

Lucifer gave her a crooked, but wide smirk, and held open his arms, the darkness of his hoodless cloak slipping back. "Give your uncle a hug. It's been years…!"

Nyssa and Rujiel stared on as Nema visibly HOPPED and SKIPPED to, of all people, LUCIFER, and gave him an embrace most boa constrictors would be proud of.

"… Her uncle is Lucifer?" Rujiel said through the corner of his mouth.

"I am fairly certain this is figurative." Nyssa responded in the same manner, and they left, letting Alexiel slip in.

"What is this thing you're wearing? Ninja wear?" Lucifer said. "This won't do. Let me see your face." He tugged down on the cloth covering her, and his smirk returned. "You're still a child! A baby running a war. I like it." The Dark King pinched her pale cheek.

"… This is… disturbing. Lucifer, since when have you babied anyone?"

Nema looked over to see Alexiel, standing in her white dress. "… Alexiel, too…!" Nema made ready to curtsy.

"Oh, don't do that. If you can get away with suffocating Lucifer, you can get away with not giving me those respects."

Nema gave the Dark Queen a crooked smile. "Okay, then. Um, well… please, sit! Anywhere. I'm not busy. Just sewing something for a friend of mine." Nema quickly picked up her sewing and folded it neatly, setting it on her dresser for the time being.

"It is good that you are not busy. We have a lot to catch up on, Nema." Lucifer said, quickly assuming his usual, colder and much more formal appearance. "Look at you… all grown up and… going to war. I've never been so proud."

Nema let the black cloth of her dress cover her face again, concealing a blush. "… Thank you. It's been trouble, Ki – um…"

"Either name is fine." Alexiel gave a graceful little smile and observed Nema's sewing. "… Firm stitching. So you fight and then sew in your spare time… It's good to be well-rounded."

Nema couldn't help but laugh. "It used to be the other way around. Events changed that."

"Well, it had to happen."

"Yes, yes it did." Lucifer nodded slowly. "If you were unsure how to go about it, you should have come to me. How could you forget your uncle?"

"You weren't Lucifer to me, until I was stuck in Hades and unable to do much. How was I supposed to contact you?"

"You send a letter to Jinho's address in Korea."

Silence.

"… Yes… we have kept a vast amount of things away from you. Your friend Jinho is more than your Korean friend in a top hat. He is… one of my top servants. An excellent vampire who has lived for 500 years, though he can manipulate his age to his liking. I had heard that he had a big talent for persuasion and I enlisted his aid immediately… What I hadn't known was that at the time I had asked for him to move to Sheol, he had been looking out for my niece."

Nema blinked. "… Jinho is a Demon."

"And a marvelous one. Though I admit that lately he has been looking up to Belial for her fashion sense."

Alexiel couldn't help but laugh. "It annoys him that now there are two different Demons that both love top hats. Whenever a top hat begins to push through a wall he hopes it is Jinho, and not the Mad Hatter."

Again, Nema blinked.

"… I know, it's a lot to absorb. I didn't know about his connection to you until I had begun to hear rumors about my little brother picking on you. When I found out, I sent him to your home at once to investigate at once. I heard that my little brother Michael might be taking a liking to you." Lucifer arched one dark brow.

"Fucking lies!" Nema spat darkly.

"… I hardly consider it a lie if all the other rumors have appeared to be true. And all the other rumors are true. Michael must have at least had interest in you at one point."

"Well he DOESN'T anymore." Nema said quickly.

Lucifer looked down at her with coal-black, calculating eyes. "… And you?"

"… It doesn't matter. What matters is this war. That's more important than him. And he is a traitor, anyway. I hope he dies." Nema said flatly. She stiffed as Lucifer tsked her and decided, against several odds, to hug her.

"My poor, heartbroken niece."

"I am NOT heartbroken."

"My poor, heartbroken, lying niece…" Lucifer said in his even tone. "There is something you need to understand about my little brother. He is an idiot. There's too much pride inside him… and you know, that is saying something if the Devil says so. His timing is off. He's too slow when coming to important conclusions. And if something ever seems too emotionally hard, he backs away. Go ahead and cry. Tears don't stain fabric."

"I'm not going to cry."

"Again, you lie…" Lucifer tsked her again. "Look at what that little Michael has done to my niece. Turned her into a heartbroken liar."

"You really will have to join up with this war, then." Alexiel said with a crooked, amused grin.

"Oh, of course. I should, at least, give Michael a sound beating."

Nema fought back tears and frowned up at her surrogate uncle. "… What?"

"Well, then, that is one of the reasons we came all the way up here." Lucifer said with a slight smile. "I was interested in adding to your war efforts. For a first time war leader… with next to no experience… you've mastered the art beautifully. You make me proud."

"My parents will hate you for it…"

"Hmm. Setsuna and Jibril are being a bit too protective. They have blood on their hands, as well."

Nema stepped back and continued to frown. "… The extra support is always appreciated. If you want to help, I will make sure everyone knows that."

"Perfect." Lucifer said, and ruffled Nema's white hair, letting her mini-crown fall off her head. "A pleasure striking up business with my niece."

The Dark King and his Queen made to leave after that, but Alexiel had made sure to take Nema by the hand and whisper in her ear, "It is a pity that Michael let you go so easily. I had liked that idea of upgrading from my niece to my sister-in-law."

That was all she said, and Nema gave her a half smile, even though it was concealed behind black cloth. And just like that they were gone, and Nema was glad. Now she could let her tears run and not have her surrogate uncle pat her on the head. She didn't need that kind of pity, even if she was a pitiful creature. Missing a man she had grown to hate by now. What would she do if she ever saw him face to face? Would she cry or kill him? She thought that she might do both.

"Nema." Oh God, it was Rujiel.

She quickly picked up her mini-crown and turned around, smoothing down her hair and tying it back on… making sure to wipe away the drops of liquid sadness before she turned back around.

Rujiel looked a little peeved, and fidgety, which was weird for a man like him. "They brought you another visitor coming in from the other side of the area… You're not going to enjoy this…"

"… Who is it?"

"It is Michael."


	23. Chapter 23

AUTHORESS NOTE: Well, I don't like to whine, but…

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! I TRIED TO START THIS CHAPTER OF "IMPY" AND IT WOULDN'T LET ME TYPE FOR BEANS! B E A N S! BECAUSE I DIDN'T ACTIVATE THE STUPID PROGRAM! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE GRAVITY OF THE SITUATION? I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE! DIE, I TELL YOU!

Fume, fume

Jesus: I don't understand what I have to do with that, but do calm down. Have a muffin.

Grumbles

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty Three_

By: Brenli

Michael ignored the murmuring all around him as he walked, stiff and straight down a long hall, which eventually came to an empty throne. "So where is she?" Michael threw on his best sneer and acted like he was here just for kicks. The truth was he felt a little nervous. None of these whispers were at all friendly, and didn't particularly like the idea of being outnumbered by as many people as he was. Geez, there were this many I-Children around? You had to wonder where they all came from…! They weren't ALL just products of Rabbits with Rabbits, were they?

A male I-Child stumbled from the doorway to the left of the throne. His abnormally dark hair threw Michael off, but he didn't show it. "If you know what's good for you, you'll leave." He said simply.

Michael's blue-green eyes narrowed. "I'm not leaving till I see what I came here to see!"

"The Queen is unwell." Rujiel reasoned.

"I don't care."

Rujiel looked over his shoulder as he heard the loud thumping of boots against the ground. "You will when you see her. She is angry."

"What makes you think I fucking CARE if she's angry?" Michael watched this male Rabbit move off to the side. He peered into this long hallway and could hear what sounded like curtains being torn away, and finally the last one was torn back. This Queen of theirs still had some distance to go, but she was walking fast and beginning to quicken her pace.

Michael should have known. Even with her face covered and her name never spoken, he should have known. There she was in that peculiar dress of hers… with the most angry set of red eyes Michael had yet to see. If her mini-crown wasn't enough, she decided to take off her ninja shirt, under which was a black tank top.

… Oh God. It was… Nema…!

… And she was angry.

And she had her gaze locked right on HIM.

He didn't know how to respond at this moment, but Nema seemed to have rehearsed for it. To his surprise, she slipped her Angel Crystal earring out of her earlobe and held it before her, and it turned into a sleek, Angel Crystal SWORD, styled curiously with a samurai blade. And she charged at him.

"W-WAIT!" The Fire Angel quickly parried her blow with his Fire Sword, and all the spectators crowded against the walls.

"I'M NOT WAITING! YOU DIDN'T WAIT FOR ME!" Nema finally screamed, slashing like a mad woman. She didn't have a certain area on his body that she wanted to hit. She just wanted to hit him in general. "I read that list your kind have. That fucking Rabbit Hunter list! I read what you said! 'I don't give a shit what you do to them? Kill them ALL, for all I care?'" Nema growled and continued swinging her indestructible blade at him. "I AM THEM! YOU CONDEMNED ME TO DIE!"

Michael forced Nema's sword off of his and assumed a defensive stance. This was happening WAY too fast. He was still at block one. Nema was alive. Alive! He'd been lied to! He still had to get over this hurdle, but Nema was already several steps ahead, calling him on every wrongdoing the Fire Angel had commited against her. "NEMA, WAIT –"

"I TOLD YOU I AM NOT FUCKING WAITING! I WANT YOU DEAD!"

"CALM DOWN, DAMMIT!"

"I'M NOT CALMING DOWN!" Her voice echoed off walls and beat into him. "I've got NO REASON to calm down! YOU submitted an opinion in FAVOR of this GENOCIDE, condemning ME and my people to be EXTERMINATED. YOU were assigned as my GUARDIAN ANGEL and you did NOTHING to protect me until GOD sent you down to Assiah. YOU neglected me when I needed you. Any time I was ASSAULTED, I called for you, and YOU were not there. I was RAPED, and I CRIED for you, and YOU WERE NOT THERE TO SAVE ME." Nema swallowed the momentary lump in her throat.

"BUT –"

"BUT NOTHING! YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU LOVED ME AND NOW YOU'RE KILLING MY PEOPLE! SOME LOVER YOU ARE...!"

"B… but…" Michael watched her blink aside two tears and take a breath before she screamed charged at him again. This time he just plain ran. It was cowardly of him, he knew. But Nema was in a rage and Michael's mind was still bogged down.

"WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, HUH, LOVERRR?" Nema hissed and swung her weight forward, landing a clean kick between his shoulder blades and sending him to the ground. "Do I SCARE you? I am SO sorry!"

Okay, now Nema sounded plain DEMONIC. Was she even Nema, anymore?

"Since when did you become so weak? Are you going to make this boring for me?"

Wait, what? Since WHEN did Nema cop THAT kind of attitude? She wasn't a KIND girl, but she wasn't a bitch, either! "… Okay, fuck you, bitch! I didn't come here to fight!"

All he'd done was call her a bitch. He had done worse to her before, but for some reason, at that moment it made Nema stop and scowl down at him. "… You… have come here for nothing less than a fight. Fucking liar, traitor… and murderer."

Oh, fuck. What the Hell did he say NOW? It was true that he didn't come here to fight. Well, he wasn't even entirely sure just what he came here for, but…

"Ah, shit!" Nema delivered a sharp kick to his side.

"… Get him out of our grounds. If we ever see him again… kill him. That's an order." Nema commanded the I-Children in the room with her. And with that she turned and began to leave.

So that was it, then…? She was going to drop everything between them? After he spent three long fucking months like a WEAK man, mourning a girl who was ALIVE all along? This was his God damn present? "… SO YOU'RE FUCKING ABANDONING ME, THEN?"

"I'M NOT THE ONE ABANDONING ANYTHING! YOU LEFT ME, FIRST!" Nema cried. No, literally, she damn near sobbed it out.

Michael struggled against the pulling of two I-Children, already beginning to remove him from their territory. "YOU THINK SO?"

"I KNOW SO!" Nema's Angel Crystal sword became an earring once again, and Nema slipped it back into her earlobe. "WE'RE FUCKING THROUGH!"

And Michael laughed. It was a stupid reaction, but you know what? All of this was stupid. This war, and this God damn predicament, and Nema, and himself. It was all so fucking stupid, it almost seemed fitting to laugh, then. A stupid reaction to an equally stupid mess. "Why don't you fucking PROVE it, bitch!"

The inhabitants in the room watched their Queen freeze up. The truth of it all was, they were surprised that she hadn't made the Fire Angel's head explode just yet. There had never been a White Wing that had gotten away with this much before, but at the same time, no one was really brave enough to call her on it. Not even Rujiel.

Nema wasted no time in convincing Michael that she was through with him. It was purely an instinctual move, fueled by anger and heartbreak. She sent a particularly fiery glance at Michael, and sprinted toward Rujiel.

He was taller than Michael was, as were most Angels, Rabbit or not. That was fine. Nema only needed to hop, then, and she did. And she made sure to wrap her arms around his pale shoulders, so that it would be harder to pull away.

And she kissed him.

The gasps were inaudible to her, though it did cause a larger uproar than she would have thought it would. Even the I-Children restraining Michael let him go.

Well, Nema wasn't going to pay attention to him just yet. Instead she focused on this body she was latching onto… stiff in shock, though it was starting to melt. When she pulled away, a strange sort of gasp left Rujiel. She couldn't look him in the eye. She couldn't look at anyone, right now.

What the fuck did she just do…?

"… NOW JUST A FUCKING MINUTE HERE…!" Michael said after a particularly long moment of silence.

"… So there's your proof." She whispered. And this time, she left for good.

"YOU FUCKING WAIT, NEMA! YOU BITCH, TURN THE FUCK AROUND!" Michael screamed at her, but the cursing only made her speed up. He fought against his escorts for a second time. "COME BACK AND FUCKING LISTEN TO ME! DON'T YOU WANNA KNOW WHY I'M FIGHTING AGAINST YOU? AREN'T YOU FUCKING CURIOUS?" She was running. Now, she had turned a corner. Now, he heard a door slam. Fine, then he'd scream it to everyone else. "HE TOLD ME YOU WERE DEAD, NEMA! GOD, YOU THINK I'M THAT EVIL? FUCK YOU! HE TOLD ME YOU WERE DEAD!" He screamed and screamed. What the fuck was all this? What did he do to deserve this… complete and utter BULLSHIT? Giving in to… something like… LOVE, and this was what he got for it! Oh God, may he never fall prey to something like love ever again!

He was at the doorway, now, about to enter another long hallway, and, finally, outside. So he glared daggers at Rujiel and snarled. "I will fucking KILL you if you touch her, you hear me? I will KILL YOU!" He watched this man… this, this THREAT, standing there looking as dumbfounded as ever. He hardly seemed like the type Nema would even go for…! He wasn't right for her.

Well, who was right for Nema, then? Him? "… I FUCKING LOVED YOU, NEMA!" He cried. He meant every damn word of that, too.

Not that it ever seemed to amount to much.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"… I think…"

"Yes, Barbiel-sama?" Doll said as she tugged on one of her dark curls.

"… I think I need more olives on this ice cream."

A decently sized sweatdrop formed on the little maid's brow as she took the bowl of strawberry ice cream and sprinkled more black olives on it. "Isn't it supposed to be pickles and ice cream, for pregnant women?"

"Oh… I tried that yesterday, though. It wasn't that great."

Doll blinked.

"… What?" Barbiel asked innocently.

"… So what is it like to be pregnant, then? I'll never know. My body wasn't made for it." Doll pointed at her belly and gave the bowl back to Barbiel.

"It's… different. A pain, sometimes. But I think it'll be worth it. Especially if Nema wins."

Doll sighed. "That girl… She's really scary, now, isn't she?"

"Oh, Raphael and I talk enough about that situation…"

"You do?"

"Of course. To Raphael, Michael is like a little brother. Between you and me… Raphael has come to consider Nema as an unofficial little sister."

"I guess so… He goes to speak with her every day, doesn't he?"

"He helps Nema heal their wounded. He also tries to contact Michael, but he never really gets far with that. As far as Cheriour is concerned, now that this is a real war, Raphael ought to be attacked at first sight. He can't reach Michael at all."

As Barbiel spoke and happily ate her strange concoction, Doll eyed the pair of white high heels lying on the floor, kicked off her black mary janes, and joined Barbiel on the edge of her bed.

"… I tell you, if there's ever been a stickier relationship, it was between Michael and that poor girl."

"She knows about Michael, doesn't she?"

"She does… That's why she is so angry, now. What's horrible is that if they ever met, I don't think she would forgive him. Even if she found out he had been lied to. I think she'd nearly hate him… A sorry pair, aren't they?" The pregnant Angel said quietly.

"And Michael doesn't know that he's been lied to, does he?"

"No. And so far, we have no way of telling him. We can't get anywhere near him without getting attacked. Raphael, Jibril, and Setsuna have all tried."

"… Yuck." Doll's pursed into a pout.

"To say the least." It was then that Barbiel noticed Doll discreetly took out a picture and appeared to be analyzing it. "Hey, what's that?"

"NOTHING!" The little maid blushed and shoved the picture in her apron. "Hey… Barbiel?"

"Yes?" Barbiel asked while scooping up an olive.

"Can I… wear your high heels?"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"YOU FUCKING LIED!" Michael wasted no time in running after Cheriour. He had guessed that someone had leaked the information to Cheriour before Michael had the chance to see him, but today his blood was drawn by some other Rabbit Hunter. But now, here he was, standing as calm as ever, with his blonde hair covering his eyes.

"It would appear that it was a problem with mistaken identities. You know how hard it is… they often appear so similar."

"BULLSHIT!" Michael swung and swung his sword, but Cheriour only dodged and dodged.

"You have just had your blood drawn. Over exertion is not a good idea at this time. You may pass out."

"I DON'T CARE!" The Fire Angel screamed. "I'll kill you… I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!"

"Is it worth it? I can grant your freedom, remember." Cheriour spoke calmly as he continued to dodge.

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE!" He didn't care, he didn't care. All of this Rabbit Hunting shit… he didn't even care, anymore. It was supposed to buy him freedom… what kind of freedom was this? Endless dreams and nightmares while the person he was suffering for kisses some other man? THAT'S freedom? Fuck that, then. Just fuck it.

"Please understand that it was a genuine mistake." Cheriour lied smoothly. "And it is best not to look back on our past mistakes…"

"She wasn't a mistake." Michael hissed darkly, inhaling deeply before charging again.

"But she must have been. Look at where she got you, Michael."

"FUCK YOU!" Michael screamed and took another deep breath.

"See? The over exertion is already taking its toll on you." Cheriour tsked him. "Now, please, listen…" He said placidly as he continued to step out of the Fire Angel's range. "We had an honest to goodness misidentification issue regarding Nemaelle Mudou. And we can fix that. I can ensure that you can… FIX that, yourself, if you understand."

"No." He said firmly. Oh, fuck no. No amount of hurt or anger was going to make him ENJOY that idea.

"Yes, Michael. Please understand. That girl has led you astray… The prospect of being romantically involved with her seems comforting, but it is a Sin for a reason. It is a tricky thing, a dangerous thing. It will make oneself lose sense of reality, and this simply cannot do."

"… Shut up."

"She causes you pain, doesn't she? I can tell… she makes you a weak man. Believe me… I am trying to help you when I tell you that we can get rid of her."

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" He flung himself forward and swung the heavy blade of his sword at him, and the lack of energy brought him to the ground.

"Very well." Cheriour simply said, turning to leave. "… Please consider my words. I am truly… trying to bring you back into the light."

Michael heard the door close behind him. Oh, good. Now he was alone. Now he could get away with certain things, like collapsing there, and rolling onto his back, and closing his eyes, and maybe… okay, definitely… crying. He wasn't sobbing by any means. That was never really his nature to do so, but the Fire Angel couldn't deny that tears were flowing from his closed eyes. "… Fucking… mess…" His voice came out broken and dry, like he was in need of water. It hurt him even more.

So this was it, then. Nothing like the ending he'd thought it would have been… Michael and his violent Queen. Nema and her fiery Angel… Pipedreams. In the end, their end, Michael killed her kind to keep some white feathers… and Nema… kissed another man. Probably… a better man. Would've been better if the next time they fought, one of them died. It didn't even matter which one. It could've been him, and that would've been okay. Maybe he deserved it.

So this was the end, then…

So much for fairy tales.

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For anyone who can't really realize it…

No, it's not the end.

I'm not quite so stupid, or so evil.

… I am pretty evil, though.


	24. Chapter 24

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty Four_

By: Brenli

"KYAAAA!"

"Oh my goodness, Doll! It's NOT that hard!" Barbiel cried and put down her ice cream bowl after finishing off the last spoonful.

"It is, too! Why do women WEAR these horrible things?" Doll cried from her spot on the ground. For the past twenty minutes she had been subjecting herself to the terror that was wearing five-inch stilettos. Barbiel had been wearing them for as long as she could remember… She could run and even fight in that particular trusty pair. Doll was making it look like it must have been a circus trick!

"We wear them to look pretty. Ohhhh…"

"IT IS A STUPID WAY TO LOOK PRETTY! WHAT ARE YOU 'OHHH'ING ABOUT?" Doll hissed as she struggled to stand.

Barbiel smirked widely at the troubled maid. "Doll…! Are you trying to impress Uriel?"

Doll gasped. "NO!"

A pause.

"… MAYBE!"

Another pause.

"… I'm not sure." Doll finished, and stopped struggling to stand. Oh, forget it. She'd just sit on the ground, then. "… I have served Uriel-sama for a long time. I don't hate it, or anything. I know he appreciates me. But he never… looks at me. You know… LOOKS… at me." The maid took out the picture she had previously looked at, and unfolded it. "… So I guess guys look at girls when they look like this?"

"Let me see that." Barbiel snatched the picture from Doll's grasp. "… Hey… isn't this… oh, what's her name? She's that vintage pinup model…"

"Katou says her name is Bettie Page…"

Barbiel snorted. "Well, that's just like him, then, isn't it?" Then she blinked. "… You're trying to impress Uriel based off Katou's judgements?"

"I don't know."

"Doll… they're nothing alike."

"… Well…"

Barbiel laughed and handed the picture back to the little maid. "Not all men are the same. They are each as complicated and unique as women are. They each have their particular flaws and fetishes. So perhaps Katou suffers from a Bettie Page fetish. Let me tell you, I highly doubt Uriel does, too."

"So what kind do you think he likes, then?"

"I don't know… I think Raphael would know that better than I do. Uriel is a distant man, Doll. I'm sure you know that by now. He is hard to read."

The conversation between these two women came to an abrupt halt as Raphael entered. The abrupt silence took him aback, and his icy blue eyes blinked rapidly. "… Don't mind me…!" He couldn't help but say it with a smile as he kissed his Angel Nurse and lovingly pressed his hand on her belly, which had only begun to actually blossom.

"… Raphael-sama?"

"Yes?" The Wind Angel looked down at Doll. "… Why are you wearing Barbiel's shoes?"

"What'sUriel'stype?" Doll asked hurriedly.

"… What?"

"Doll would like to know…" Barbiel nudged his side, "What is Uriel's… TYPE."

"… Ohhhh." Raphael quickly nodded. "… But I have no idea what his TYPE is."

Doll nodded quietly. "Oh."

A lop-sided smile touched the Wind Angel's face. "… All this mess with romance, lately… I think God is playing a cruel trick on us all."

"… You helped Nema out again, today?"

"… No. No, actually. Instead… other things happened…"

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"… N…" Oh, crap. How could Rujiel start this? He'd avoided her for a half hour, but he needed to sort this out. His lips still tingled. He knocked.

"Go away." Nema's voice was muffled behind the door.

"… Nema…"

"I don't want to talk to you…"

With that Rujiel slammed his fist on her door. "You can't kiss me and expect me to shrug it off!" The silence was deafening, now, and the frustrated I-Child took a breath. "… What was that, Nema? … Why did you do it?"

He heard the shuffling of her footsteps traveling to the door. The soft sobbing was audible, now, as he heard the weight of her body press onto the door and slide down into a crumpled, sad mess on the floor. Rujiel slid down with her, his hand brushing along the wood, wishing this locked door didn't exist.

"… I am… lonely." Nema said quietly.

"… We all are…"

She bit back a sob and tore at her snowy hair. "I wasn't ready to see him… I took one look and I wanted to… I wanted to kill him and kiss him in the same breath…"

"That is heartbreak." Rujiel said softly. "… Nema, he said that he was lied to. He said that Cheriour told him you were dead."

"It doesn't excuse what he's done… Did you hear what they have said? They've given him a goal…"

"777 of us."

"And they all want him to kill the Queen. Me." Nema paused and stared down at black fabric. It was Michael's shirt, wrinkled from all the throwing and caressing and continued throwing she made it endure. She touched it gingerly, now. "… Why would he let them do that to him?"

"I don't know, Nema…" Rujiel sighed. They still weren't talking about the kiss she had given him… but for now, he'd excuse it.

"I had hoped… that he would be stronger than that. He was always such a stubborn person… I had hoped… that he would stay that way."

"… Hey, Nema… no one ever stays the same. Life… it changes us all. Even men like him. But you know… if he's given up on you… that's his loss. You are… a beautiful person. You've got a big heart, big dreams and a lot of ambition in you. If he wants to throw that away… Then I hope that one day, you'll realize… he isn't the one for you."

"Then who is? You?" Nema sounded bitter, but Rujiel tried not to let that get to him.

"… I don't know. I am willing to try… and you know that."

Rujiel backed away just slightly as he heard the doorknob turn and click. "… I know…" She cried quietly, and she allowed herself to fall into him, allowed her sobs to get lost in his chest as her pale fingers clung tightly to the sleeves of his shirt. "I hate this…! This fucking mess…!"

"… Nema?"

This time, she allowed herself to remain in Rujiel's arms as she looked up at the source of that familiar voice. It was Raphael, standing over the tortured pair, trying to read into the desperate clinging and the gentle kiss Rujiel pressed onto her forehead.

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"… His name is Rujiel. He has been after Nema since the day he met her, from what she's told me… and it seems that now she's decided to be with him." Raphael finished.

"… Poor Michael." Barbiel said quietly.

"Well… I can't say he didn't bring it on himself. He never should have become a Rabbit Hunter."

"So Michael-sama knows Nema is alive, then, right?" Doll asked.

"Apparently."

"Then he'll quit, right? And that'll fix it?"

"… I don't know. Michael is an idiot, sometimes… And quitting won't change the fact that Nema is with Rujiel." The Wind Angel sighed. "… Every time I try to reach him, I nearly get killed. How am I supposed to be any help with that kind of constant threat? I hate to say it… but if Michael doesn't quit… I won't even try to help him out, anymore."

"That's a little harsh, Raphael…" Barbiel frowned.

"That man can't depend on ME to tell him what's right and what's wrong! It's been that way all our lives and honestly, it's time he grew the fuck up and figured out what's right for himself!" He snapped, then sighed again. "I love that brat… but I can't guide him forever. I hope… that he grows up before it's just too late." After pressing another kiss to Barbiel's lips he got up to leave. "… And Doll?"

"Yes?" Doll looked up at the Wind Angel.

"… There's only one woman I can think of… that Uriel ever loved. It's not enough to say that she is his type… but it's all I can think of."

"… Who?"

"Alexiel."

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"Ah, shit!" He swore again and again. There it was… the incessant screaming and pleading in his head… the long cries. And he couldn't get where he needed to go…!

"MIIIIIIIICHAEL!"

There it was again! It always sounded right next to him, but he never got where he needed to go. Why couldn't he ever make it? And why did it feel like he'd been through this before?

Now the Fire Angel was beginning to make out the sounds of another person… he suddenly began to wish he was deaf. Those sounds… those… grunts… were of a particular kind. And the screams… her… screams… were getting more desperate and painful.

It was her… being…

He couldn't even finish the thought. He didn't want to. Why the Hell couldn't he reach her in time? Why did it feel like he'd been through this already? He had the sick feeling that he knew what would happen next.

The noises stopped.

Michael stumbled through onto the ugly scene.

There she was, bloodied and torn all over, limp like a ghostly white ragdoll… Red, teary, angry looking eyes peered up at him through stringy white hair. "… Mi…chael…"

God, why couldn't he ever make it in time?

"Hmmm…" Came a voice from further off. There he was, with blonde hair covering his eyes, smoking a cigarette. "… Delicious."

Oh, fuck no. It happened before he could stop and wonder why it felt like he'd already been in this spot. He just didn't care, at the moment. Sword raised, battle yell ready, Michael charged forward.

Cheriour didn't even move.

Nema did.

She was beaten and bleeding, but she went after… HIM. With her own strange, indestructible Angel Crystal sword brandished and slashing at him.

Why was she after HIM? He was trying to help her! He was fucking SORRY he was late; she'd never know HOW sorry! He was gonna make it better by killing off this Angel hiding behind blonde hair and a black cloak! "What the fuck are you doing?" Michael hissed, narrowly dodging and swift slice downward.

"WHERE WERE YOU? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?" Nema cried and screamed, over and over, slashing and stabbing… God, hadn't he been here before?

The Fire Angel suddenly felt that… strangely familiar pain and sharpness… pressing into him, tearing the flesh, the muscle, finally that fucking heart… that God damn heart… that no one assumed he had, and that he was wishing didn't exist to begin with.

He couldn't hear anything except the struggling of that damn heart, and the torn breathing that escaped his violent Queen. Her hair fell over her eyes, but that quivering lip of hers betrayed all too well her shredded emotions as she twisted her sword and stirred a painful cry out of him.

Everything was going fuzzy now… But he could have sworn he'd been here, before. "… I… am… sorry…" Michael choked it out like the blood that flowed out of his failing heart. That fucking heart.

And Nema looked up, the tears washing away little white trails through the blood on her pale cheeks. "So am I."

"S-SHIT!" The Fire Angel stuttered as he suddenly jumped. He jumped too much, got tangled in white sheets, white like her skin, and fell out of bed. "… Fuck!" He swore, the pain of the fall spreading through his body as he gingerly sat up.

The reason why it felt like he'd been there before was because he really HAD been there before. This night, like many nights before, he'd fallen prey to one of his least favorite nightmares. Why couldn't he ever make it in time? Why was it that he was always so late, too late, and he had to watch her lying there, bloody and torn, hating him because he wasn't there?

Oh God, he was woozy. After untangling himself from the pale sheets, he groaned and groped for the pills that would make the headache go away. Dammit, he wished Raphael was around. One tap and Michael wouldn't feel so dizzy from the blood loss.

The Fire Angel swallowed two pills in one gulp and let the bottle roll away from him. Hell… was Raphael even his friend, anymore? A fucking pity what a mess like love and lies can do to life. At least… when you were an Angel, anyway.

The pills were working their magic, already… getting rid of the dizziness, and making him much more alert… and attempting to speed the healing process of some peculiar wounds.

He beat his fist against the wall he now leaned on and allowed his calendar to fall off and flop over his head and into his lap. He thumbed through the pages. 3 months marked in red, and 4 marked in black. That was seven months. Over half a year and still fucking fighting. Those Rabbits could put up a fight like no other… if life could have been any different… Michael would have wanted to recruit them.

He checked the clock. It was set for Assiah Tokyo time… not for any particular reason. Just, you know, when he got bored he liked to wonder what he and Nema would be doing at that time, if they were still down there. Right now it was 2:13 A.M., Monday. Nema and Michael would have been coming back from a Harajuku nighttime brawl, then.

It is a truly terrible and frightening thing, what seven months worth of time can do to the most indestructible people. That course of time, particularly the last four months, had been uncommonly cruel to Fire Angel. After he'd found out that Nema was still alive, the daily blood withdrawals had become larger. No longer did Cheriour do the procedure. Actually, Michael rarely saw Cheriour, anymore. The man was a coward, through and through… but after four months of this kind of lifestyle, Michael almost didn't even care, anymore.

It had become blantantly obvious that Nema and this new Rabbit boy of hers were indeed an item. On the battlefield this Rabbit boy liked to take on a guardian role, watching out for Nema while she picked off who she wanted to pick off. She never wanted to pick off Michael. And the truth was, that actually hurt Michael a little bit. She held hands and kissed another man, now. You think she'd at least award the Fire Angel's sorry ass with a good fight.

He liked to pick fights with her, though. He did so at least once a day. To Nema, this was a confirmation that Michael no longer thought himself connected to her. That every slash of his sword was one more thread cut off, separating the two. He knew this merely by looking at her face. She always looked angry, but hurt. What she didn't know, or at least didn't care to believe, was that even in this sorry situation, Michael was trying to… protect her. Guard her like he should've long ago.

It was easy to think he'd just gone plumb mad or something. He allowed himself to get lost in the thrill of the fight because it was in his nature to do so. But the truth of it all was, if HE didn't fight her, someone else… with the willpower to kill her… would have attacked her. It didn't click with Nema because she thought he wanted her dead, but this was the truth: By picking fights with Nema that he purposely never finished, he was saving her life. One day at a time.

But after seven months of believing that he no longer loved her, Nema was apparently putting her all into a new relationship, with this new man. That lucky fucking bastard. And Michael was willing to believe that after all this time, Nema was probably over him completely.

You know, she had the right to be sick of him. After the things he had done… or for that matter, failed to do… Michael had made himself up into the kind of man that would've had to beg and plead in order to get her back. Well, Michael wasn't going to beg and plead. After seven months of war and lies, not even that probably would have worked, now.

Actually, the Fire Angel had come to that conclusion three days ago. And with something as hopeless and ugly as that slipping through him, and with seven months of this shit weighing down on his shoulders, he did something he never thought he'd do, because he was too strong for it.

He did it like Nema did, though he actually hadn't realized that until he was done. And now the pills he took were trying their best to heal the peculiar wounds, and making the insides of his forearms itch. Well, it was time to change the bandages, anyway. Each arm, wrapped in white gauze, bore a bloodstain in the shape of a long, red cross. Just like Nema.

Michael unwrapped bandages around the wounds and was amazed to see that the pills worked very well. Already the wounds weren't completely open. Scar tissue was beginning to fill the lines.

Apparently it was a little rash to cut himself when he gave out as much blood as he did each day. According to the Rabbit Hunter medics, he had almost successfully killed himself with the very first cut.

He wasn't really sure if that was WHY he did what he did. He didn't have much of a clue why. But he did it, just the same, and already the wounds were almost all healed, thanks to these weird pills he took.

Well, he supposed that was good. Then he could go out there and make his body count rise. It was a cold way to go about this fucking war, but the only way he felt was open to him.

Why didn't he quit? In many ways, he wanted to quit. Betrayal wasn't an option because Nema and her I-Children were unwilling to take him in. But he always could have just quit… but he didn't. His reasons changed all the time. He needed something to kill while Cheriour remained unreachable, that fucking coward. Or, this would help him keep his white wings, as if he actually cared whether his wings were white or not.

Or, this was more or less the only way he could get close to Nema. Maybe.

Well, he was close to done, already. 576 out of 777… Just 201 left. That was a lot of souls, but for how wildly and quickly Michael began killing them off, this was a small number. Actually, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to ever finish the goal. To do so meant that he would have no affiliation with the war in any way. And he would have no way to Nema. Taken or not.

… God damn that Ruji bastard! That was his name, right? Ruji something? Rujiel or Rufiel or whatever the fuck it was? Well, damn HIM. Like Michael NEEDED anything else to go wrong with his life now…! Then he had to fucking… EXIST! The Fire Angel decided that he'd try extra hard to kill Rujiel the next time. Which was going to be soon, hopefully. The weird pills were healing him up swiftly.

It was at this moment that the Fire Angel heard several voices outside his window. Throwing the calendar aside, he rushed over and found his blue-green eyes looking down at a group of nearly 20 Rabbit Hunters. It was a small hunting party, then, probably looking to ambush an equally small group of Rabbits.

"So Cheriour gave us the okay, right?"

"No, but who cares? When we get that Queen of theirs he'll be happy we –"

Michael didn't really successfully hear the rest of what was said, but, well, whatever. He heard that 'Q' word. It had been a few days since he'd fought Nema… and, well, he missed her.

The Fire Angel stifled the yawn that escaped him. Damn, the pills were supposed to work better than this.

"Move out." He heard from below.

"Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck…!" He repeated his favorite word and stumbled to his bottle of pills, swallowing four. Four was a bit much… But whatever. It would just wake him up more, right? He grabbed his sword, and before anyone new what hit them, Michael was blocking their path, his white wings spread wide. "Going hunting without me?" He drawled.

… Why was he drawling? Michael never drawled before…

"M-Michael-sama… You aren't back on duty for another two days."

"You think I'm fucking weak?"

"N-no… But there your heart can't POSSIBLY be pumping enough blood through your body!"

"What the fuck is a heart? I have no heart." The Fire Angel let the lie slip from him. "And I'm hunting whether you like it or not."

Though Michael may have lost rank in Cheriour's eyes, to every other Rabbit Hunter he was still the mighty War Angel. After all, there was a reason why he managed to kill as many Rabbits as he did in as little time as he had an official Rabbit Hunter. And so they let this angry, if a little off-center, Angel join up with them.

The travel was long but it felt short for some reason. What little blood Michael had left was charging through him much more fast than it ought to have… Hmm. Maybe he shouldn't have popped four. That made six pills within the hour… Maybe that wasn't very smart…

Oh, whatever. Michael wasn't very famous for being a smart man, anyway. He was only so brilliant as to become a Rabbit Hunter, and lose someone he'd had the weakness to care for because of it. If that could even be called brilliance.

Well, too late now, right? The blood was rushing, but the Fire Angel's flesh remained the pearlescent pale shade that the lack of blood awarded him. He was so pale… too pale. He looked almost like he could pass off for an I-Child, but whatever. He wasn't too busy thinking about that.

He was thinking about the jolly good fight he'd have with Nema soon. It had been three days…! God, he missed her. Did she miss him? If not, he'd have to kill that Ruji bastard and get his point across. Wait, what has his point? Oh, it didn't matter. Maybe he'd just kill the Ruji bastard. He DID kiss her, and all. And no one was supposed to kiss Nema but him. Yup, so he'd kill that Ruji bastard and Nema. No, wait, he wouldn't kill Nema. Hmm… Well, he would fight her. Maybe he would, like, kidnap her or something. Wouldn't that be a mission? Steal her, yes, steal her away. Then he'd have to find that Cheriour guy… kill him off, too. Yeah, he should've done that a while ago… Well, since Michael found out Nema was alive, Cheriour had been hiding away somewhere… what the little coward! So yeah, Michael would find him somehow. Gotta kill him off. That was just… a MUST. And steal his violent Queen. Yup. So he had a plan, then? Yeah. Though the pills were making him a little dizzy. But, you know, whatever. He had a plan. That was the important part.

Oh, oh there they were! Yup, he was right. Looks like 23 Rabbits, and there she was… Nema, the violent Queen! Wearing that silly ninja dress! Okay, maybe it was kinda hot, but you know, Nema didn't need to hide her face anymore…! Mmm, Michael would have to get rid of it, then. Wait, that was really perverted, wasn't it? Whatever.

Oh, there was a little girl…! Well, that was kinda sad, wasn't it? Wait, why was she wearing Nema's dark red crown? That was HERS, dammit…! Oops. Made too much noise.

"Dammit, attack!"

Well, there went all the White Wings to beat up all the Rabbits. Oh, what was this, what was THIS? That Ruji bastard…! Running away with that little girl!

So there she was. Alone. Looking right at Michael, slipping her Angel Crystal earring out of her ear and letting it transform into her sword. She looked so fucking angry… it was… great.

Man, he shouldn't have taken that many pills…! The blood pumping was dizzying but exciting… He hoped he didn't pass out in the middle of the fight or something. She might, like, kill him.

An intoxicated, albeit cruel, smirk played over the Fire Angel's features. "… Missed ya."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: After that totally awesome posting streak, I've suddenly gotten hit with schoolwork! It's really building up, now, especially now that I'm working for the college play and all. I'm taking after Nema and being a little seamstress for the pretty costumes!

Well, I'm still not giving up, so you all know. But my updates are going to begin to slow, thanks to all the work… Yeah, it sucks.

Well, I'ma tried. Stay tuned for the next chapter… I've got an intoxicated Michael, Lucifer, Doll and maybe more of Katou's cookies.

Luci loves hugs.


	25. Chapter 25

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty Five_

By: Brenli

Missed her? Missed her, did he? Hah. He ought to revive every single Rabbit he'd killed, first. When he did that, then they'd debate whether he even CARED enough to vaguely miss her.

"… Talk, dammit!" Michael spat after a short moment.

"Well what the fuck do you want me to say?" Nema snapped back, flames of quick hatred sending imaginary sparks between them. "Welcome back, honey?"

To Nema's disgust, Michael laughed. It was a strange laugh. It was slower than normal. Or at least it was slower than she remembered it to be like. She shook away the momentary confusion as he swung the heavy blade of his sword up high. "Give me a present…? Fight me!"

"Gladly!" Really, truly Nema would be glad to take him up on such an offer, though she despised how he seemed to think this was mere sport. Maybe to him, it had been sport, but that was because Nema hadn't given him her own version of Hell just yet. Yet.

But she'd give it to him now. She ran at him with her Angel Crystal sword slashing at the air wildly. She was sure she looked frantic and unsure, and that was fine. That was what she wanted. The Fire Angel simply stood there, a peculiar sort of smile sitting on his face. He thought this was too easy. Well, good. She wanted that too.

"… Wait a m- Oh!" The Fire Angel's smile became a wide, intoxicated grin as he spun around and blocked the blow coming down on his head. "That was sneaky! How do you move so fast?"

"That's a secret for me to keep!" Nema sneered and continued to make quick slashes at either side of them, which were promptly parried. She took joy in the fact that though the blade of Michael's trusty Fire Sword had been crafted to be wide and thick, the sheer material of her sword, Angel Crystal, kept it strong. Perhaps stronger than Michael's sword.

"Keeping secrets? What's the point in that? There isn't a part of you I don't know!" Michael grinned widely. Oh, that was probably a very bad thing to say, wasn't it? That was just too dirty. The words seemed to catch Nema off guard, too, her ruby eyes widening just the slightest bit before narrowing into slits.

"… Fuck you! There isn't a part of me you don't know? Since when were you a perverted kind of creep?"

"… Since… now?"

Nema ignored him and charged once more, the crystal blade of hers actually touching soft skin. Even in whatever strange state he was in, the Fire Angel leapt back enough to prevent any serious damage, and he got away with only a light scratch that traveled across his chest. Chances were, it wasn't even going to bleed.

However, Nema DID manage to catch the bandages covering his left forearm, slicing them open just the slightest bit.

The white cloth began to sag and slip down his arm, and Michael, frustrated with it, shook off the bandages. Nema's eyes focused and remained on the peculiar cross, only just gently healed over… a mirror of her own scars… when Michael had often told her that he would never take such an action. "Wh-"

"What, you wanna play that way? Fine!" Michael swung at her and allowed the tip of his sword to catch some black fabric and listened to it rip with a satisfying sound.

"OH MY – WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Nema cried and quickly gathered as much fabric as she could. He'd cut open her shirt and now it was falling open, revealing her lacy black bra.

Michael was laughing. LAUGHING as she blushed and clutched the fabric at her bosom. "WOOOO…! What a show!"

"A SHOW?" Nema hissed and ran at him once again, but this time Michael dodged and grabbed the back of her shirt, forcing it off her body. "FUCKING STOP IT! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"

"'Course it's not! Never said it was!"

"THEN WHAT IS IT?"

"Enjoyable!"

"Enj-" Nema found herself repeating the word. Enjoyable. This was… ENJOYABLE? That word actually came out of HIS mouth, at a time like THIS? "… FUCK YOU! CREEP!" Nema screamed, no longer caring that she was standing there with only her bra to cover her breasts.

Again she charged. Again he parried and swung carelessly while Nema struggled in blind anger and embarrassment. And Nema felt like she was completely misplaced in this fight, though she was sure it had to be the other way around. She was lost in a strange kind of rage, but Michael took it all lightly… like he didn't care… like this wasn't even a real fight.

Did Nema wish it wasn't a real fight? … She used to think so with all their other fights, since they'd last discovered they were each alive. She used to wish that, under his evil green gaze and tight scowl, there lurked the blue-eyed Angel that she had fallen in love with… But not now, of course! Because she was with a better man, now. Rujiel, a man who would never forsake her, or betray her… or tear her heart up. Yes. She'd found someone new. And she wanted this to be a real fight.

And now… after the few days that she had gone without fighting him… it was HIS turn to not want a real fight. He was acting like… like this was training. Like when he would train her down in Assiah… He was being so strangely lighthearted in spite of his skill, he was going easy, taking defense… and most importantly… he was smiling. And somehow, that smile made Nema forget she was in Heaven. It made her think she was in Assiah… training, and that was all. And that she could stop, and he would stop, too.

So she stopped.

And he stopped, his sword frozen in mid-slash.

... And why the Hell couldn't he have been like this BEFORE? It wasn't like she had ALWAYS wanted to hurt him…! "I swear I…"

"… Yup?"

"I SWEAR I FUCKING HATE YOU!" She fought again. Oh God, did she hate him! What kind of sick, SICK timing was that? NOW he was going to be a gentle fighter? After making her feel hopeless, empty, fucking ANGRY? Now he was just playing around?

Something strange blurred her vision, and for some reason Nema did not realize that they were tears until Michael had successfully pinned her and… kissed one of the tears away. "Poor girl…"

Poor girl? POOR GIRL? He was raining PITY on her now? She didn't need it! "HOW DARE YOU FUCKING KISS ME! GET OFF! GET OFF RIGHT NOW!"

"Oh, why? Is that Ruji bastard gonna kick my ass?" Michael laughed it off, and suddenly Nema's blood ran cold. Michael wasn't acting like Michael at all. Not one bit, and this was scaring her. He was completely unpredictable now!

… Was he going to rape her, now?

She screamed. Oh God, she screamed, and she flailed, and she tried her hardest fight her way out of this sticky situation. And then his kissed her, long, deep, and so completely demanding, and Nema screamed into his mouth, as though she'd still be heard… at the very least, be heard by some part of him still like the Michael she had loved.

Once.

She had loved him ONCE. And not anymore.

Yes.

… Maybe.

Nema, lost in the psychological trauma that came with the idea of being raped for the second time in her whole life, suddenly broke down in tears of a wild, panicked kind. But when Michael ended the kiss, Nema choked back her sobs and let her head flop to the side, the tears running like frightened rivers, her red eyes shut as tight as they could ever hope to be.

She was unable to see Michael licking his bottom lip. It was not out of any sort of intoxicated seduction, but because he could taste something peculiar. "… Strawberries? I knew it! I KNEW your lips were way too pink! You're wearing lip gloss! Goin' on some kind of hot date?" At last Michael seemed to register the anguish he'd thrown Nema into. "Heyyyyyy don't cry…!"

"LET ME GO!" Nema suddenly cried.

"What, you think I'ma rape you? I won't."

"I don't trust you…" She replied in a low hiss.

"Well that sucks…" Michael let his finger glide down her neck and felt her shiver. "Do you remember then? I do. You made me feel good."

"Well that's good for you, then, huh?" Nema snapped sarcastically. As soon as she had felt her body's involuntary shiver she had snapped back into her angrier self.

"…Huh?" She watched him arch a deep red brow. He'd never done that around her before and to be honest… it was actually kind of cute. "Noooo not like thaaaat."

"No? Then like wh-" She paused. He was nibbling on her neck, now… in that God damn spot of hers! And damn him for ever being in the kind of position that ALLOWED him to find it! She felt herself shiver again… And she wished… that she COULD just enjoy it. She wanted to be home, again… and she wanted to… just… be with him. That's all she wanted. She just wanted to be with him. Still. Even after all of this.

God dammit.

Then a tiny sound escaped her, one of pain. Somehow, in the long while they had been apart, she'd forgotten that Michael had fangs. But now she remembered. Oh God, she remembered.

Michael felt his fangs pierce flesh, but didn't hear her teeny cry of pain. And then he tasted the blood, the metallic flavor seeping slowly into his mouth. Somehow, this appealed to him. He was taking a part of her into him… Suddenly he remembered that he missed her. And suddenly he remembered that he'd had a plan, too, but he'd forgotten what it was, exactly… he wondered if this was okay, though. Maybe this was the plan? Well, a fucking WEIRD plan, then. He swore never to take so many pills again.

Out of nowhere, Nema quickly flailed, finally managed to get her hands against his chest, and shoved him off. He quickly stood and watched her, teary and disheveled, sit up and press a hand to her neck. Wow… he'd bitten her good. He hoped he didn't puncture an important vein or something… She drew her hand away from the wound and observed a decent amount of blood smeared over her pale fingertips.

When their eyes met, Nema's were wide with disbelief and anger. "… You fucking BIT me?"

Michael said nothing in response, only licked the blood off his right fang.

God dammit, she was THROUGH with this game! She snarled and took up her crystal sword, when a tall, dark figure appeared from somewhere up above and came between them.

It was Lucifer, Nema's surrogate uncle, Michael's brother, wielding his own sword. "That's enough. Nema, you are indecent. Go home. Get your neck looked at."

Nema's mouth fell open in automatic protest, but Lucifer stood his ground in his usual icy, authoritarian manner.

"Go on. I would love to take it from here."

She gave her former lover one last glare, and she wanted to promise a continued fight, like they always had… but… she couldn't do it. Not a single syllable could fall from her lips, and in frustration and pain, and spun and left, her sword turning into her cross earring once more.

"Hey, come back!" Michael rushed after her, and he almost failed to sense the sleek blade of his older brother's sword coming down on his fiery head. "God dammit! Fuck off! This isn't your fight!"

"But it is my fight." Lucifer said coldly, as it was his nature to do so. After all the impossible shit the War Angel had been enduring, he'd almost completely forgotten his brother, his cruel, cold brother, but now here they were, fighting each other.

For the first time in his life Michael did not want to fight Lucifer. It was not necessarily because he no longer despised him, for it seemed they came from different worlds and they always would, but because he was getting the way of big PLAN… whatever it was, because he'd forgotten already…

"IT'S NOT YOUR FUCKING FIGHT! NEMAAA! GET BACK HERE!"

"Stop whining." Lucifer continued to swing his sword side to side, and then blocked Michael's frustrated blow to the head with a steady face. "Nema is going home. After being sexually assaulted by my poor excuse for a little brother, I would imagine she needs to recuperate. It must be good timing of mine, showing up when I did. Would you have raped her if you'd been given more time?"

Michael froze for a short moment, and then sneered. "I WASN'T GONNA FUCKING RAPE HER!"

Lucifer gave his younger brother a small smile that expressed disbelief and mild amusement. "You have hurt her enough, haven't you?" He enjoyed watching Michael's frustrated movements and continued blocked them all, "Leave her alone. My poor little niece no longer needs you."

"NIECE?" The Fire Angel sneered.

"Niece." Lucifer simply repeated, and finally he grew tired of playing. "Enough now."

It was way more simple than it ought to have been, but within seconds Lucifer had used the flat of his blade to knock Michael onto his side, and he delivered a swift kick with one of his black, steel-toe boots. The Fire Angel coughed out a, "S-SHIT…!" He tried to come to a stand, but Lucifer kicked him twice for trying and pressed his boot against the hand that held Michael's Fire Sword.

"Tell your older brother what you're on."

"… W-what? Fuck… you!" Michael was still coughing from the steel-toe kicks.

Lucifer sighed, but maintained an aloof face. "It's been so many years, hasn't it, little brother? But I am not a fool. That has always been your expertise."

"FU-"

"Ah ah ah…" Lucifer ground his boot against Michael's hand. "I know perfectly well that you are on something. Not once have you delivered a blow that would make me proud to call you my brother. You are not the same. So tell me… What are you on?"

Michael scowled up at Lucifer and grudgingly answered, "… Just… painkillers."

"Ah. For your… strange new wounds, then?" Lucifer nodded down at Michael's exposed arm. "Overdosed…? Were you looking forward to a high, or is this a failed suicide attempt… attempt number two, I presume?"

"…St-stop being so… fucking… calm…!" Fatigue was starting to hit Michael and settle over him like a heavy blanket… So taking six pills just leaves a short high, then…now he was beginning to feel an itching type of pain his arms…

Ah, dammit. He was definitely not taking so many pills ever again.

"… It is such a pity… look at you. You have let yourself go, haven't you?"

"F-fuck off…!"

"But did you have to take my niece with you?"

"Nema… is not your fucking niece…!"

Lucifer arched a dark brow. "She is the daughter of Mudou Setsuna. She may as well be my niece. Of course… there was a short time in which I had believed that she would become my sister-in-law, instead of some technical niece. But these were just empty hopes… Are you still awake?" Lucifer tapped his forehead with his sword.

"… Yes…"

"Goodness… you better not die out on me… I would be most disappointed in you if you were to die by suicide. Most disappointed."

"I'm NOT… gonna die… fucking idiot." Michael stifled a yawn.

"Well, then." Lucifer stepped off Michael's hand and sheathed his sword. "I have no interest in fighting you if you are in a drugged state. You must promise me that you will never fight Nema again."

Michael stared up at his brother. "… Why?"

"You cause her too much greif. It would be best if you avoided her at all costs. She will move on… if she never has to see you again."

The Fire Angel was silent.

"Wake up." Lucifer kicked him.

Michael growled and yelled, "I'm not gonna promise that!"

"And why not?"

"Because… I fucking said so!" Oh, that wasn't any good…! He had to make a lie, and quick! "Because I want her dead, dammit…! I want her dead! Fuck!" He endured another sharp kick to his ribs.

"I will ensure your death long before her own, if this is the case… little brother."

Michael held a hand over his abused side and mumbled, "… That… sword…"

"Sword?"

"Her sword…"

"Ah yes. Isn't it a clever little thing? Her sword turning into her earring? She will never have to be unarmed and so few will ever realize it."

"It was… her rosary cross."

"You are still observant, then…" Lucifer said idly. "The rosary was a gift to her father when he discovered that Sara had become pregnant. He used it to pray for the safety of his child… and the cross? It is a small piece of my Queen's sword… the Nanatsusaya… She had a cross cleverly carved out of the blade and had the rosary constructed herself."

"... So Nema…"

"Wields part of the Nanatsusaya. A sword that will never, ever break. A sword that only she can wield, without going mad." Lucifer tapped his brother's thigh with his boot. "Have you been enlightened enough? I am waiting for you to change your mind and promise to leave Nema be."

God... if he did that… what if some other Hunter killed her off, just because he had avoided picking a fight he would never finish? Well… this was something he was not going to divulge to his older brother, so he lied once more. "I told you I want her dead!"

The blade of Lucifer's sword suddenly, swiftly came to a position just over Michael's throat, threatening to pierce him there and leave him to choke on blood. "One last chance… for my little brother." Lucifer said the words coldly, yet… did Michael detect a very tiny shred of compassion?

Michael didn't care. Michael went ahead and laughed. "God… Oh God… Go ahead. It'll be… so fucking merciful of you… I'll die laughing."

These words made Lucifer think over his actions. "… And mercy is one thing I should not give you." And Lucifer left.

And Michael still laughed. "I'll die laughing, damn you…! Because I can't promise that… shit! Because I…" And then the Fire Angel passed out from his high and overexertion.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

AUTHORESS NOTE: It's short, and the truth is I wanted to make this chapter even longer, but seeing as my schooling has been TEARING ME APART, in my desperation to show that I have no given up on Impy I post this for you all. I humbly thank all if you who have stuck through this with me! I've been trying really hard to get everything else in my life balanced out… I'm not turning this into a blog, but in short I'm a little on the failing end right now, but I'm still going to give you what I can give you without having everything else bite my head off!

So sorry there's no Katou and his cookies. That was SUPPOSED to be in this chapter but now you'll have to wait. Gomen ne!

Impy Lesson of the Day: DON'T DO DRUGS. EVEN IF THEY'RE PAINKILLERS AND YOU FEEL LIKE YOU NEED WAY MORE THAN YOU OUGHT TO TAKE. YOU'LL END UP SEXUALLY HARASSING THE PEOPLE YOU CARE ABOUT!


	26. Chapter 26

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty Six_

By: Brenli

"Ne… ma?" Lilliel finished awkwardly. Nema was walking, no, stomping angrily on by… without a shirt on? "Where is your –"

"I'd rather not talk right now, Lilliel…" Nema said quietly, though her face betrayed annoyance. This was not to be taken in a negative light, for Nema had found that she was actually strangely fond of children. In fact, she had decided that one day she must have a daughter… and when she did, she would name her Isobelle, in honor of the little girl on whom Nema had performed a mercy killing.

But however much Nema may have enjoyed children, she was in no mood to deal with anyone, child or not. Particularly, she was uncomfortable seeing Lilliel… because since the day Nema had begun to date Rujiel, Lilliel had been overflowing with happiness at the idea of Nema becoming her official older sister. As far as Lilliel was concerned, the two were already engaged and had, apparently, at some point in time given her the task of making wedding arrangements. For some reason, Lilliel was both the Maid of Honor and the Flower Girl. Her plans were as illogical as Lilliel's assumptions often were, and that's what was going to make Nema's agenda hard. Lilliel wasn't going to take what Nema suddenly had in mind and shrug it off or even pout for a week or so. She was going to raise her own little childlike version of Hell.

"… Hey… do you want me to clear the path for you?" Lilliel asked, her ivory curls bouncing as she hopped in front of a distraught Nema.

Nema managed a weak half-smile. "… Sure."

Nema regretted allowing her such a duty. "MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY! OLDER SISTER WALKING THROUGH! HEY, YOU! QUIT STARING! YOU KNOW THE QUEEN IS A GIRL!"

Nema sighed slowly and marched on with her head hung. Yes, this was going to be particularly hard. It was going to be hard enough as it was.

"Nema?"

Oh, so terribly, terribly perfect. It was Rujiel, leaving his spot next to Nyssa and following his miserable mate. Nema could not bring herself to answer or even acknowledge him as she walked on. God, what kind of mess had she made?

She knew that by no means was Rujiel a bad man. He possessed a strangely Michael-like quality in that he often teased her with a façade of deep annoyance. However, it was a just that. A strangely Michael-like quality.

After beginning her war, Nema had definitely come to realize that Michael was not a desirable man; he had done several things that made him undeserving of love, particularly hers. And yet she couldn't deny that sometimes… she liked to pretend that Rujiel was, more or less, Michael. In a way, he was, for Nema had been shamefully using him as a Michael replacement. Yes, she was ashamed, and had for a little while now been trying to force the Fire Angel out of her head and replace it with the image before her: the image of Rujiel, her mouthy and yet particularly gentle Rabbit boyfriend.

But it should be noted that even Rujiel was what one would call undeserving of her affections. Or perhaps he was, but was hardly ready for it. For as time crawled on, and Nema had begun to try to force Michael away, she'd become keenly aware of Rujiel and his actions. While he was no two-timer, he remained a self-appointed figure in Nyssa's life, often checking up on her, spending time with her, talking about her. Perhaps, if he did not seem so… hopelessly interested… in Nyssa, Nema would have shrugged off the behavior. But it was very much apparent in his garnet eyes. He continued harboring feelings for Nyssa.

Nema sometimes wondered if perhaps he, in some subconscious way, was using her just as she had been using him.

Well… it wouldn't matter, anymore.

"Okay, have fun!" Lilliel said gleefully before bowing in her pretty red and pink dress and skipping away. The couple were at the door to Nema's bedroom, now, and once the little Rabbit girl had left them, Rujiel brushed Nema's snowy white hair over her equally pale shoulder.

"Holy… You need to get that looked at, Nema…!"

"I'll get it looked at," Nema mumbled quietly, rushing into her room, making a big show out of looking for a brush.

"… It was Michael, wasn't it?" Rujiel asked with the low, brooding tones of disgust and anger.

"… That's not what matters." Nema said weakly.

"'Course it matters; don't be stupid!"

"I'm not stupid!" She quickly hissed over her shoulder.

"Nema, that bastard has been singling you out left and right ever since he came here to see you! He's doing it on purpose, you know…"

"I don't care."

"I DO. And so does everyone else." Rujiel said firmly as Nema finally found her hairbrush and began running it through her ivory strands. "Don't you hear what they're all saying…? He does it to make you weak… It is a war maneuver, and he's using it to the best of his ability!"

"You think that man makes me weak?" Nema snapped, gripping the brush tightly.

"We've seen it, even Nyssa had commented on how unattached you become after he attacks you. You leave questions unanswered and prisoners of war hang in some kind of limbo until you FINALLY get your act together, Nema…!"

"I think you forgot your place, Rujiel…!" Nema said darkly, her ruby eyes sending invisible, angry sparks toward him. "YOU are just a soldier and have no right giving ME advice!"

"I am your BOYFRIEND and I've got the right to tell you when you're out of line!"

"YOU are the one who is out of line! Are you telling me I'm WRONG, somehow? Why? Because I'm not POPPING the heads off those pathetic White Wings we scoop up? Because I'm not OKAY with an ex lover doing shit like THIS?" She pointed at her neck wound, which had finally stopped bleeding. "Forgive me for not being as much of a TYRANT as I'd started out to be!"

"Nema, stop it!" Rujiel snatched her hairbrush away from her. "Tyrant or not, that… that man is messing around with you. As a soldier AND your boyfriend I can't let that slide!"

"What are you going to do? Kill him?" Nema snarled.

"… Maybe."

Nema stood there with her ruby eyes fixed on the center of Rujiel's chest. "… It's… not your position to get rid of him. You… have a little sister that needs you. So I can't allow you to take on a mission quite so… big." She said the words softly, all of a sudden, as though just maybe, she were trying to convince herself that this excuse was valid.

And Rujiel knew that was what she was doing. Making excuses. Under his scowl he growled, "… Then who, Nema…? You?" He felt his heart break a little as she maintained a cold face and turned away, apparently searching for a comb now that her hairbrush had been taken away from her. He watched her turn away, cold as ever… too much like… someone he still vaguely adored. "Jesus…" Rujiel sighed bitterly, "Just like Nyssa…"

"Yes, JUST like Nyssa." Nema snapped acidly.

"Now what is that supposed to mean?" Rujiel replied with tones of frustration and anger.

"It means exactly that it sounds like! I am JUST like Nyssa. In YOUR eyes." Nema turned to face him fully, light reflecting off her red eyes. "And I think it would make you DAMN sick to know who I think YOU'RE like…! SWEETHEART!"

"Don't get snappy with me, Nema, I –" Rujiel felt Nema steal her hairbrush out of his hands.

"YOU nothing…!" Nema hissed, and dropped the hairbrush on her vanity with a 'thud'. "… NOTHING. We're through."

There was a significantly long pause. Nema shut her eyes to keep from seeing any kind of reaction. Eventually it came through, quiet and yet, screaming in her ears. "… You aren't serious…"

"I can't do this, anymore!" Nema screamed, yet to her it was too quiet, not expressing the right amount of pain she endured at this moment. "I'm not going to lie to myself and pretend you're HIM! Maybe you're fine with that game…! Maybe you aren't even playing that game to begin with! But God, I was, and I'm done!"

Still her eyes were closed, and she couldn't see. "You were…lying to me."

"Yes, I was. And I'm going to stop lying right now…!"

"Nema…"

"You may leave, now, Rujiel." Nema finished coldly and began digging through one of her drawers.

"… I'm not leaving."

"I said LEAVE!"

"No!" Rujiel snapped, and then Nema felt hands gripping her arms and trying turn around around.

"Let me GO!"

"I'm not leaving! If you are dead serious about this you better look me in the EYES and tell me what you just said!"

Nema struggled to slip a shirt on her body… a black, man-tailored shirt… too big for her… belonging to… that Angel of hers…

Rujiel felt his insides freeze and his hands dropped from her, as though suddenly they were far too heavy for him to lift. He could have sworn she would have thrown it away by now… But there it was, washed and ironed… settling on her perfectly, though it was too large for her small frame.

She had kept his shirt… Michael's shirt. And now she stood with her head hung, the black shirt left unbuttoned, still exposing her bra… but somehow, she seemed to have lost her modesty.

Rujiel found it in himself to take her by the shoulders, turn her around, and cradle the pale face of hers, urging her to look up at him. "Nema… talk to me…"

Nema opened her red eyes and allowed two tears to slip down her face. "I have always considered you a friend… and that's why… I can't lie to you, anymore."

"But… I… I l-"

"Don't." Nema said sharply. "You will be lying to me… Because I know."

"No…"

"I know that you still love her."

"No I d-"

"It's okay… because I still love him." Nema felt her two tears slipping through Rujiel's white fingers and onto her face. "Please go… before you make me want to keep lying to you."

Rujiel opened his mouth, but no words could leave him. What more could he say, or ask for? She had looked him in the eye and calmly, sadly, told him that she would no longer be his. "… God…" Was all he could mutter before his gave her a kiss to end the relationship with. She was heartbreakingly compliant, allowing him to make it deep, long, and soft. She felt she owed him that much. "… I'm sorry." He apologized quietly, and then he left.

The door clicked shut.

And the deed, the horrible deed, was done. Nema should never have had to do such a thing to begin with. She never should have kissed Rujiel before Michael, and awarded him that kind of illusion. Nema had woven an elaborate mess in the midst of a literal war, because she was just that foolish and heartbroken. Now she had gotten rid of the mess to the best of her ability…but what made it hard was that Nema was STILL foolish and heartbroken. In anger and sadness she chewed on the edge of the black sleeve, fighting down a sob, but failing to keep the tears from running down and away from her. One tear managed to slip down into her bite wound, making it sting.

A knock on the door made her jump. "What?" She sounded snappy and she knew it.

"Nema-sama…" A shy voice came through softly. She knew who it was. It was a girl about her age, and though she had insisted that she not be referred to in such respects when they were not in the midst of White Wings, this girl continued to honor her. "There is a new prisoner of war… What would you have us do with him? Leave him with the others or…?" She squeaked as Nema threw open her door. "Oh goodness, Nema-sama, you could have told me you were getting dressed…! … Nema-sama?"

Nema marched past her in some apparent, newfound rage. Rujiel said that they thought she had gone weak because of Michael. She had let a number of prisoners of war go on living because she needed time alone, to attempt to mentally clear Michael out of her head. And because of this, her people found her weak.

Well, she'd show them. Just because she was a heartbroken fool didn't mean she was INCAPABLE of dealing out pain. She'd show them. Even if her shirt was still unbuttoned.

A trail of curious onlookers formed, but Nema remained oblivious to them. At the very most, she wanted them to see what she was about to do.

Oh, there was the door. A heavy door, with a heavy lock, but by now, in all her despair and rage, she blew the door right off its hinges. Nema had to admit there was a hefty number of White Wings within this room… And judging from the blood seeping out from under the fallen door, she'd already gotten rid of at least one. She stepped onto the door, her red eyes piercing into the tired and half-starved bodies around her, and she said plainly, "You're overdue."

She began the way she thought it best, and took care of limbs first. Bodies fell and flailed like strange white-winged maggots, screaming and crying men, perhaps too tired and sick to really put up any kind of defense. The exploding flesh and muscle tissue quickly slipped around on the pools of blood, but from Nema's spot on her door, she was only lightly splashed with the red liquid. After this, she decided to rupture their innards. The cries grew significantly louder with this second wave of assault, and from behind Nema the cries of shock echoed through, turned the room into an opera hall of slaughter. It was so strangely artistic, this cruel mass murder of hers, in that she saw her pain reflected on the faces and cries of the White Wing foes.

At last, there was one more step. The head. And all of these poor White Wing heads disappeared at once, leaving behind masses of flesh, bits of torn skin, misplaced white wings… and a floor coated in blood.

"… I hope…"

The many faces of the Improper Children inched away as she looked over her shoulder.

"… That you have all been properly entertained." And with that Nema stepped off the door, stepped through the mess she'd made, and stomped through the path promptly made for her. "Never again will you accuse me of being weak! Whether a White Wing stole my heart or not is NOT your concern! My priority is YOU, and I will win your freedom! And that is all you will concern yourselves with!"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Doll mumbled and hummed to herself as she brushed her black curls out of her eyes and looked up, for perhaps the tenth time today, at the image of Betty Page that she had stolen from Katou. She sighed and slipped into Barbiel's white stilettos, closed her dark eyes, and stepped in front of her mirror to observe herself.

She had made a copy of Bettie Page's outfit out of one of her many maid dresses. She used the gray fabric of one of her skirts to make a pair of gray capris, so tight she was pretty sure they might burst open if she took the wrong step. Her white crop top was constructed with the fabric of one of her many aprons, and she had tied it into a firm knot between her breasts, just as Bettie had done.

Her dark eyes went completely round. If it weren't for the cuffs around her wrists and her little maid hat, she never would have thought she was herself. "Wow… So… guys like girls who look like this…?" Then she checked the clock. "Oh! It's time for Uriel-sama's tea!" Doll cried and hurried about, getting the tea ready for her speedy delivery. Doll had taken it upon herself to run in circles in these shoes when she was in the privacy of her room. After falling over twenty or so times, she got the art of performing daily functions in stilettos down like a science.

"Uriel-sama!" Doll cried cheerfully, nudging the door to the Earth Angel's study open. "I have your tea!"

"Yes, th-" Uriel paused, eyes wide, as Doll giggled and bounced toward him, unaware that her new outfit was doing an exceptionally good job of accentuating her assets. He quickly looked away, pretending to be wrapped up in the papers he was studying.

"May I ask what Uriel-sama is reading?" Doll asked, looking over Uriel's shoulder.

"Just reports concerning the Rabbit Hunting and the War… Michael was found unconscious on the battlefield the other day."

"Really? Why?" Doll leaned further forward.

"…"

"Uriel-sama?"

"It says here that according to medical reports, he had overdosed on painkillers… this, and they found self-inflicted wounds on his body."

"My goodness…! What would Nema think?"

"… Who is to say, anymore? Times and people are in chaos, up in Heaven. Who can say anything for sure, anymore?"

Doll sighed. "Uriel-sama, you shouldn't read so much depressing stuff…!"

"I shouldn't?" Uriel, in the process of turning, lightly brushed his shoulder against her bosom. It sent the poor Archangel into a very rare state of panic, and he jumped back, his face sharply turned away from her. "I'm sorry…!"

Little did Uriel know, Doll was giggling inside. "What ever could you be sorry for?"

"Doll, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Suddenly Doll's internal giggles stopped. "… Why, Uriel-sama?"

"… I would like some time alone. Please leave me. And thank you for the tea." Uriel said as evenly as possible.

"… Oh. Okay…" Doll said quietly, bowed, and began to leave.

She was no longer bouncy, and made her movements slowly, until the door had finally clicked shut. A part of her had wanted to turn just once more and see if he was looking at her. It felt like he might have been… but he had also asked her to leave. Maybe… it was like Barbiel had said… and Uriel was not like Katou, and Uriel did not like Bettie Page, and Uriel… had thought she was ugly.

Sometimes she hated herself for her amazing ability to be so childish.

Her steady walk away from Uriel's room began to turn into a run as she fought back the drops of sadness lingering in her eyes. She was so ugly…! And Uriel would never LOOK at her the way she wanted him to…!

"Whoa! … Well, hellOOO."

It was… HIM. That pig! That perverted jerk! Being as happy as always. Looking at her… you know, LOOKING at her. Ugh! He probably just wanted her to bake more cookies! "Go away… pig!" Doll snapped and rubbed her arm over her face in angry sadness before moving around him and continuing her run.

She half expected him to run after her, and sure enough, he did, his blonde hair flowing behind him. If there was ever a trait of Katou's that Doll had liked, it was that hair. So different from Uriel's dark waves… a beauty that belonged to Katou only.

Not that Doll liked anything else about him. "Someone's a little bitchy today!" He said cruelly.

"That's not funny!" Doll despised the way her voice cracked. It was pathetic and weak of her, and she only allowed herself to be weak around Uriel… and NEVER around that perverted pig, Katou!

"… You okay?" Katou said it with a strange sort of laugh in his voice. It seemed tremendously fake, but Doll didn't pick up on it.

"That's not your business! Go away!" Doll cried. Then something truly strange and unexpected happened. Katou suddenly pressed on ahead of her and grabbed hold of the doorknob to Doll's personal room, turned it, and opened it for her.

He said nothing, and let his eyes pierce into her. He was searching for something. Doll didn't know what. Maybe he was just getting an eyeful. Well, this eyeful wasn't for him! "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? CLOSE MY DOOR!"

Katou arched a brow and laughed. "What, didya wanna run into the door a couple times? Are your gears a little out of wack?"

Doll stared at him with wide eyes. Though he often insulted her, he'd never really gone so far as to pick on her in regards to her body. She knew he knew that she was living in a very old shell, so defective that now and then, Uriel had to wind her up with a key. She was comprised of earthly elements and all outward appearances looked and felt very human, but her very most important organs were nonexistent… literal gears and screws made of organic material. Truth to tell, she hated her defective body. Doll was ALREADY sad that Uriel did not find her attractive. Now Katou had to step in and say THAT! She wanted to hit him, so she did, and was frustrated that he did not seem very effected by it. "I HOPE YOU DIE… AGAIN!" Doll hissed and rushed into her room, throwing herself onto her bed like only she, in melodramatic ways, could get away with.

"Listen, kid, whatever's got you so wound up –"

"THAT'S NOT FUNNY! IF I WANT INSULTS ABOUT MY STUPID ROBOTIC BODY, I'LL ASK FOR THEM!" Doll wailed.

"… Well that wasn't what I MEANT, but whatever…" She heard him kick her door shut.

"OPEN MY DOOR!"

"Why? You're, like… BAWLING all over the place. You don't think we should retain the water in one room?"

"STOP IT! STOP TRYING TO BE SO FUCKING FUNNY, BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT!"

Katou blinked. "Did you just… SWEAR at me?"

Doll looked up from her despairing position on her bed. "So what if I did?"

"… Sorry about the gears thing."

She observed him as he said his plain apology. His face was as plain as his words, as though, perhaps he saw no difference between his insults and this apology.

After a pause in which Doll sniffled and buried her head in her pillow, Katou coughed, maybe out of boredom, maybe because he couldn't think of what to say. "… So… what's the occasion?"

Doll sniffled loudly. "What?"

"Your new getup. What's the occasion?" Katou openly pointed at her Bettie Page-esque outfit.

This only sent Doll into a fresh batch of tears. "… URIEL-SAMA THINKS I'M UGLY!"

Doll sobbed and wailed like she were a mere two year old, but she choked on the tears when she heard a stifled laugh.

Katou was trying… he was trying so damn HARD…! But good Lord, Doll was just hilarious sometimes.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU IT'S NOT FUNNY?"

"Doll, kid… If Uriel-SAMA thinks you're ugly, he's not worth your tears." Katou stated simply.

Doll tried to look at him through her tears, but he looked blurry and deformed. "… What?"

Katou let loose a small laugh and grabbed her wrists, pulling her off her bed. "Oh, for cryin' out loud…! What is it with women? Doll, kid, wipe your face off and look at yourself." She didn't have to because her did it for her, with the bandana he'd had formerly twisted into a band and tied around his head.

Doll went ahead and looked at herself, reflected in her closet mirror. She was standing there in her Bettie Page outfit, so tight it showed off each feminine curve she possessed. Her pouted lips were still locked in a frown and her dark eyes were a little watery from crying.

"If you'd just smile, kid, you'd be a total knockout. Hell, even with you NOT smiling, you're a total knockout. But whatever. You get my point?"

Doll blinked rapidly at Katou's reflection in her mirror. "… So do you think Uriel-sama thinks I'm pretty?"

Katou snorted, suddenly looked more than a little peeved. "Well how the Hell should I KNOW, huh? But if he doesn't, he's fucking dumb." He observed Doll's cross face. "What? That's the truth. You're damn pretty, Doll." Suddenly he couldn't really look at her, anymore, and it was then that he noticed his missing Bettie Page image taped to Doll's mirror. "Hey, I was looking for that…!" He promptly took it off her mirror.

Doll looked over her shoulder at him, but now he seemed very intent on just staring at Bettie's picture. "… You're just saying that 'cause I'm dressed like HER!" Doll snarled. Somehow she felt even angrier at Katou than at Uriel. How dare he get flirtatious with her at a time like THIS, just because she looked like HER?

There was a long pause. Katou was looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She, once again, couldn't read into the look, but it, as usual, made her a little nervous. "… Doll, I don't know what you're talking about. Everybody knows that maid dresses are sexy. And you LIVE in them. Don't fucking tell me when I'm lying. 'Cause I'm not this time."

"… What?"

"I'm not repeating myself! It's your own damn fault if you have bad ears!" Katou was suddenly slipping back into his rowdy self, but Doll ignored that fact.

"… So I'm pretty either way?"

"You oughta know the answer to that by now, kid!" Katou rolled his eyes. Doll realized that it was so overdone… about as overdone as her bout of tears! It made Doll smile. It was good to know she had caught him at a moment in which he didn't feel in control, anymore.

"So I can take these stupid shoes off and I'll still be pretty?"

Katou's gaze pierced into her again, searching for a second time, but now Doll welcomed it was a challenging grin. "Well why the Hell are you wearing them if you think they're so stupid?"

Doll seemed to find the answer hiding in those words and happily kicked them off, well aware that she was now five inches shorter than she already had been against Katou's tall frame. "And now I'm still pretty?"

"DAMMIT, DOLL! Fine, whatever! You're pretty, 'kay? Geez, who the Hell blew up YOUR ego?"

Doll laughed. She hopped and laughed, and she wasn't sure why. Maybe because she was happy to see that she'd annoyed Katou back, after all the times he'd succeeded in annoying her. Maybe she was happy that Katou found her pretty. He wasn't Uriel, but he found her pretty! … But… it was just too bad he wasn't Uriel. "… But HE doesn't think so…"

"Oh what the Hell, Doll? I already told you! Do I have to spell it out for you?" Katou suddenly cried. "The guy is an idiot. Okay? I don't care if he's Mr. Doom & Gloom, check out my badass scythe, I'ma CUT you! Point is, he decided to stick you in this pretty little body of yours, and for what? So you can make him tea? Fuck, isn't that some kind of life?" Katou sounded thoroughly disgusted, and Doll wasn't sure how to take any of that. He was disgusted, but not because of something affecting him. It was because of something affected HER. "Seriously, first time I met you I was DAMN sure he was usin' you for a bed buddy!"

Doll suddenly gasped. "OH, HOW DARE YOU –"

"Then it hits me that he's not! You're just his maid! His lonely little maid, and let me tell you it's DAMN obvious that you worship the ground he walks on!" Katou didn't even hear her. "And seriously, what kind of life is that? Huh, kid? I mean, you can't possibly be OKAY with serving tea all day and not getting anything in return! To be honest I'd probably be happier if he WAS your bed buddy! Then I wouldn't have to see you sobbing all over your bed like just now! Dammit, Doll, Uriel's a either an asshole or a coward! Either way, he can't expect you to wait forever, can he? Let me tell you if he's not careful, someone's gonna steal you away! AND YOU'RE PROBABLY GONNA LIKE IT!"

"… U… Uriel is NOT an… an asshole!" Doll stuttered. "He just…"

"Is hung up. On Alexiel, who isn't his. She's Kira's. Meanwhile, you go ahead and worship him, kid. Dress up like Bettie Page to try and seduce him. At least… ya chose a good model." Katou coughed again, trying to come off casual in spite of the fact that he had screamed… much more than he had intended. He pretended to be infatuated with his little picture, smiling at it. "What a doll, huh?"

Doll couldn't help but pout. She wasn't sure why. Suddenly she was angry again. Let down… and it… wasn't because of Uriel. "What kind of expression is that? 'What a doll?' There's only one Doll while I'm here!"

"Well EXCUSE ME, Princess." Katou snickered. But when he tilted up her chin, he hardly looked sarcastic or mean at all. "There is only one Doll. Got it."

Suddenly, Katou was leaving. "Hey, K-"

"Save it for later, kid. I'm tired." And to her surprise, she watched him tear the image of Bettie Page into fourths and toss them into the trash.

"KATOU! But… I…" Doll quickly assumed a snobby attitude. "I thought you needed to stare at that dumb picture all day… like the pig you are!"

But Katou wasn't playing along this time. "… Eh. I don't need it, anymore."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: OH, I KNOW! I am such a BLASPHEMER! SINS! I SHOULD GO TO HELL!

Hah. Like that's even all that bad. I mean, Lucifer's gonna be there!

Anyway, in case it isn't obvious by now, "Impy" is a little more than Mika and Nema… even if they ARE the main focus… they're just not the ONLY one.

And it is NOT that I don't like UriDoll pairings. I personally find the pairing a little adorable, myself, and I know a lot of you do, as well. I will not be surprised if I get reviews crying, "KATOUDOLL? IT'S ALL ABOUT URIDOLL!"

Well, MAYBE it was time for a refreshing change as far as Doll goes. Also, MAYBE I'm paving the way for my future coauthoress and her whole deal. But I won't go into that. You'll find out about that soon, enough anyway.

But yes, I know. I'm a blasphemer and I'ma goin' ta HELL!

WOOO! PARTY AT LUCIFER'S! I'MA BE THERE!


	27. Chapter 27

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty Seven_

By: Brenli

"Cheriour-sama…"

The tall figure was not wearing his dark cloak, for once. Instead, he had donned a white labcoat. His lab was dark, so suspiciously dark one had to wonder if the lights had all gone out. "How is the troublesome Angel doing?" He merely asked as he swished something red in a test tube.

By now, everyone knew that Cheriour's sort of codename for Michael was "the troublesome Angel." Ever since the day Michael had found out that Nema was still alive, Cheriour had made it a point to become much more distant from the Fire Angel. He'd changed offices. He no longer drew Michael's blood himself. Well, he simply never associated with Michael, anymore. The truth was, Cheriour had been a little worried that with the knowledge that Nema still lived, Michael would have switched sides. He was quite relieved to know that Nema would not have taken him in, and was plain pleased to know that Michael, however angry and hurt, had decided to play along with Cheriour's game. He was amazed. There must have been something truly messed up inside the fiery man, to honestly keep on going along as a Rabbit Hunter. He knew it was not that Michael had learned to appreciate his views. It was painfully evident in his deliberate cutting and his reckless popping of the pills. The strange, troublesome Angel was still suffering from internal, emotional wounds, then. It was almost too much stress to keep him around, but he did, and now he asked the Rabbit Hunter before him as to his condition.

"He is conscious, but very weary. I'm not sure if we should draw his blood today."

"Indeed. It might be too much. Well, then. Another day of rest for him. You have taken away his pills?"

"Yes. He complains of an itchiness in the wounds, but the wounds are almost completely healed over."

"Then we will let him endure that sort of minor annoyance." Cheriour said placidly, but as he turned just slightly, a strange sort of smile was on his face. "Come. I would like to show you something."

His subordinate was quick to come forward and observe what Cheriour was doing. Before him was placed a glass container, in which Cheriour had encased a white rabbit. But Cheriour held the test tube before his nose. "You know what this is?"

"… Michael's blood?"

"Yes. Now I shall ask you this. What element does Michael claim?"

"Fire, of course."

"And would you say that he lives up to being a Fire Angel?"

"I'd say so. He was born into it, wasn't he?"

"Yes. One could say it was in his blood."

The Rabbit Hunter said nothing before his superior.

"I took it upon myself to test something… I believe it was a most fortunate little game. The blood you see before you… It is impure. It is pure blood, but it contains too many of the things that make it blood… in this blood… is a truly magnificent thing."

"Then how do you make the blood… pure?"

"That was the trick. I had merely meant to preserve his blood, and so I freezed it. However, I awoke one night to hear a horrifying type of scream. Curious, I began to look for the victim, and found it."

"… What was it?"

"It was a mouse. At the time I had only had one little test tube of Michael's blood frozen. I do not begin to know just what this strange little mouse had been doing, but it was carrying a match in its mouth. As it ran along, it must have struck the match against the wall, lit the match, and in instinctual shock, dropped the match. However, this was a bad decision. The match rolled and lit the bag containing Michael's blood sample on fire. The heat from the fire shattered the glass test tube, and the frozen blood landed on the mouse. And now here is the interesting part. It would appear that the blood, though frozen, reacted violently to the fire and actually exploded, landing bits onto the mouse and lighting the mouse on fire."

"… Michael's blood exploded?"

"Yes. A curious thing, isn't it?" Cheriour said smoothly. "I conducted more experiments on sections of Rabbit flesh for a short while. I had come to the conclusion that after extracting the DNA strands that clearly label the blood as Michael's own and freezing it… I come across a most deadly and potent weapon. It must be frozen before it can become so deadly… and I find that deliciously amusing and ironic. But once it is frozen… A very sudden increase in temperature…" Cheriour stopped speaking to smile. It was a smile a little different from his usual cold ones. There was a strange kind of curl on one side, and it succeeded in making him seem childlike and yet very deadly.

"… Cheriour-sama…?" His subordinate tried weakly.

"Allow me to show you the effects of his blood. See here." Cheriour showed him a box no bigger than a standard cigar box. "The truth is… this is a bit much for our subject." He indicated the little white rabbit as it blinked its reddish pink eyes up at the two Angels. "Please meet today's little subject. His name is Liberty. I thought it would be so wonderfully symbolic to use him today." With this he opened the glass container and put the box inside. "This container is covered in Angel Crystal, so it will not shatter and spread. Strapped around the box are wires, you see?"

"Yes. And grass…?"

"It is my detonator. Liberty here hasn't had a decent meal all day, and he's a plump little rabbit. He needs his food. He will eat the grass and receive a surprise. Look, there he goes! Watch him."

Liberty the little white rabbit first sniffled about the box, and then gingerly nibbled the grass. After a short while, Liberty got too ravenous, and chewed heartily on a group of blades, until finally, Liberty, who only wanted to eat, chewed through a wire.

"God!" Cheriour's subordinate cried. "What…?"

The scream was so defined and sharp, even Cheriour winced to hear it. Cheriour was right. The cigar box was too much for Liberty. The blood, suddenly detonated and rushing forward with a sudden application of sharp heat, exploded from the box and covered the entire container. The screams were repeated and all that could be seen of Liberty was frantic running against walls, until finally, with a long and strange kind of wail, a thud was heard, and nothing more. Cheriour took a pair of tongs and opened the container, pulling out the formerly white rabbit. The rabbit was black, now. Frozen stiff in some kind of horrifying position… the legs spread, the mouth wide open. The ears that should have flopped were stuck in a strange, bent angle.

"Like… like napalm…" The Rabbit Hunter said quietly.

Cheriour only smiled. "And Liberty the rabbit… is no more." He carelessly dropped the burnt rabbit back into the container. "The truth is… with the one last test tube of Michael's blood, I am finished with the preparations for a most delicious show."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

He was happy that he hadn't told her that he loved her. He had almost made that mistake when she decided to end it… he wasn't sure what influenced him to try and say it. The very moment she had decided to end it, he had been filled with an urgency to preserve the relationship… But he was happy he hadn't said it. For she was right. It would have been a lie to tell her that he loved her. It wasn't about whether Rujiel cared for her, because he did, and she knew that. But he did not love her.

It was true that he did care for Nema. She possessed a heartbreak that he could identify with, and it truly was a selfless motion on his part to try and cure her of that pain. For the duration of the relationship, he had tried to believe that finally, after so many years of longing for a part of Nyssa that had died off, he was moving on. He really had wanted to believe that Nema would have eventually filled in the little void in his heart. And though there were moments when he shut his garnet eyes and Nema would somehow become Nyssa, he had, for a short time, believed that at least Nema was charging forth, forgetting the White Wing that had betrayed her. And he had believed that in due time he would follow her.

But now, there would be no "due time." For Nema had never forgotten the fiery Angel she had once been with. And now Rujiel could do nothing more than give her an ending kiss, an apology, and leave.

"Rujiel. You missed quite a show."

Oh God. Why at this moment…? "… I could hear the screaming from here." Rujiel said quietly to Nyssa.

"May I ask what you are doing moping in front of my bedroom door?"

Rujiel blinked and looked around. Sure enough… his pain had made him walk to Nyssa's room. Good Lord… like he wasn't pathetic enough already. "… I'm not sure."

"Well, then," Nyssa shrugged it off. As icy as ever… no longer the girl Rujiel had been fond of. And yet… he could never forget her. "If you don't mind, I would suggest that you go. Nema is very angry… it is one of those times she could use your comfort."

"… No. No, it's not."

"Oh?"

Rujiel smiled crookedly, but his garnet eyes betrayed several layers of pain. "… I am not the guy she'd be interested in seeing right now."

"… Really."

"Really." He fought the urge to be completely miserable, and his sadness came out in a quiet sort of laugh, short and lonely. "I won't be seeing her, anymore… I am not… the one she's interested in."

"… So she still carries a torch for Michael."

Ouch. God bless that blunt honesty of Nyssa's… but… ouch. "… Yeah." Was all he could say to this cold and cruel girl… that he still loved.

"With all due respect to you, I understand that kind of longing…"

Oh no… there she goes…

"For the truth is that in spite of his cruelty, I still love Ashriel… Cheriour."

There she goes speaking about HIM…

"I know he is inhumanly evil now… but I remember the better parts of him…"

Speaking about HIM, and…

"But it often feels like the only one who even believes me is Nema…"

… and forgetting who was waiting right in front of her. "Ashriel is dead." Rujiel said firmly, suddenly. And things got quiet.

Nyssa had grown all too accustomed to this kind of accusation. "I know that is what you believe, but –"

"But nothing, Nyssa! Ashriel is dead!" Rujiel snapped.

"… No. The truth is that you refuse to accept the idea that Cheriour is one of us…" Nyssa began quietly.

"THE TRUTH IS THAT ASHRIEL IS DEAD, CHERIOUR IS SCUM, AND YOU…!" Rujiel watched Nyssa's expressions change from icy to curious nervousness.

"And I?"

"AND YOU ARE PATHETIC FOR HOLDING ONTO SOMETHING THAT ISN'T THERE!" Rujiel bit out harshly.

And then something so strangely miraculous happened. Nyssa's ivory brows pinched together and her bright green eyes narrowed. It was a peeved look… an angry look. "… You are not one to talk. If you understand what I mean."

"I never said that I was NOT pathetic! I know that I am… the biggest mess ever…! A disgrace to all I-Children! A puppy! I KNOW all that, already! But do you know how pathetic you are? Go ahead and act cold and logical. But I know you much better than that. I know that the truth is you're just as pathetic as me…! Pretending he's alive… pretended he's HIM! Like this is somehow comforting!" He watched as Nyssa almost struck him, amazed at the sudden violence which he blocked quickly, taking hold of her wrists.

"If you ever… ever… EVER…!" Nyssa suddenly hissed at him. So unlike the Nyssa of now… but so much like…

"Ever what? Tell you the plain truth?"

"YOU SPEAK LIES!" Nyssa yelled, her hands flailing in his grip.

"EVEN IF ASHRIEL REALLY IS CHERIOUR, YOU THINK THAT MAKES IT OKAY TO HOLD ONTO HIM? HE'S GONE, HE'S DEAD! EITHER WAY, ASHRIEL IS DEAD!"

"SHUT UP! YOU FUCKING… ASSHOLE!"

Rujiel just shook his head at her. "Bitch."

He allowed her to slap him this time. "… I hate you. I swear a thousand times I hate you...!" And yes, those words hurt him… but he could not begin to describe… how much sudden faith they sparked in him. Nyssa was angry… allowing emotion to run through her… and somewhere locked inside, was the girl he'd loved way back when. And still loved, now.

And Nyssa froze as she felt his two pale, strong arms suddenly wrap themselves around her. Damn Rujiel for being such a strange man…! Damn him for deciding to hug her at time like this…! After calling her a liar…! It was then that she felt the quick, soft shaking of his shoulders. Crying, now. From insults and namecalling to crying. Only pathetic people acted like this.

She did not care to acknowledge that her shut eyes her brimming with tears, themselves.

"… I miss you." Rujiel finally said. "I miss you, Nyssa… Every day I swear I want to kill Cheriour… because he took you away. I LOVE you, Nyssa. I want you back… not even for myself. I just… want you back… Where's the girl I loved? She doesn't smile, anymore. She doesn't laugh… I can't pick on her and tease her, anymore. We can't be happy together, anymore… we can't be friends. Is that my fault?" Rujiel squeezed her, hating how her body tensed. "I would give anything to bring the Nyssa I miss back… I would bring back Ashriel if that meant you would be the girl that I loved. Even if that means I STILL can't hold you like this. Even if that means I will never kiss you. I just… don't care. I love you, Nyssa…"

Nyssa began to gently push away. She was, for some reason… disturbed that he was allowing her to step back, now. She… wanted him to pull her closer.

"… Even Nema knows that. Everyone knows that I love you, Nyssa. Everyone knows that I always have… but you're never going to look my way."

Nyssa looked up at him with scared green eyes. "Rujiel… it's just that… my heart…" What was it about hearts, anyway…? Always causing so much pain… Sometimes Nyssa wished that she had no heart. But it was there…forever with a constant ache. But somehow, right now, it was magnified so much more. "… I'm sorry…" She said softly.

"What for…? All you did was fall in love." Rujiel said quietly, miserably. "And you know… there's nothing wrong with being in love."

"Yes, there is…!"

Oh, no.

What had she done?

What in the world had compelled her… to kiss him?

Quickly, she pulled away, afraid to look back up at him. When she finally did, she found that his garnet eyes had gone wide, but they could not focus on her. He seemed… almost bashful, about it. Maybe he really was. It must have been the last thing he had expected from the likes of the new Nyssa, as placid as ever. It was the last thing she herself had expected… Oh God… what had she done?

"… I…"

Finally Rujiel's wide red eyes focused on her.

"… I am unwell. And you should know better than to pick on a girl when she is ill."

She watched Rujiel blink rapidly. She wondered how many mental daggers had endured already, and wondered how many more he could take. She was cold again. Cold… a familiar shell, and inside that shell, she could mourn losses without the fear of being babied and… cared for… and loved.

Nyssa turned from him, now. Opened her bedroom door and stepped inside. And then she stuck one last dagger inside him. "That was one difference between you and Ashriel. Ashriel knew better than to pick on girls."

She shut the door and locked it before he could get so angry he would charge at her. She tried to tune out his words, but they were much too loud and painful, ripping through the cold shell she wrapped around herself. "ASHRIEL…! HE HAD NO SPINE! YOU WANT TO PLAY LOW LIKE THAT, FINE! YOU WANT TO KNOW THE REAL DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ASHRIEL AND ME? I LOVED YOU MORE! ASHRIEL WAS A COWARD WHO PLAYED INTO GOD'S FUCKING IDEAL PICTURE! HE DIDN'T LOVE ANYONE! YOU THINK HE LOVED YOU? HAH! HE WENT WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T LEAVE HIM ALONE! THAT'S LOVE?" She shuddered when he hit her door. "HE MOVED AWAY FROM HERE BECAUSE HE WAS ASHAMED TO BE SEEN WITH YOU! YOU CALL THAT LOVE! MAYBE I AM STRANGE, AND I'VE GOT A BIG MOUTH, AND I PICK ON GIRLS! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT, NYSSA? I'M NOT ASHAMED TO LOVE YOU! I'LL WALK WITH YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BATTLEFIELD, HAND IN HAND! I WILL, IF YOU LET ME! AND THAT'S NOT LOVE? I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THE DAY WHERE I TELL YOU TO GO FUCK YOURSELF, NYSSA! I'VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU FOR YEARS! I'VE SUFFERED FOR YOU LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE, BUT HERE YOU ARE, MAKING A MAN LIKE ASHRIEL OUT TO BE BETTER THAN ME! AND IN SPITE OF THAT, I STILL LOVE YOU! DENY IT ALL YOU WANT! BUT I LOVE YOU! IF I LOVED YOU ANY MORE, I WOULD DIE!"

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Why was the Rabbit Territory so quiet, tonight? It had been strangely easy to slip past the boundaries… Nema's guard was down.

Michael rubbed a hand against one of his freshly scarred arms and shook his head. Well that wasn't any good. He idly wondered if he should risk getting pummeled by several albino Angels just to tell her that she needed to fix that. It was mere luck that nearly all the of the Rabbit Hunters were celebrating. He wasn't sure what they were celebrating and to be honest, he couldn't give a flying fuck about it. He knew it was something about some new kind of weapon… Well, Michael didn't care. He wasn't interested in any kind of new weapon. … He wasn't interested in very much, anymore.

Lucifer had attempted to make him promise to never see Nema, again. Strangely, it was this attempted promise that made Michael actually consider not seeing Nema anymore… after he had passed out, he had a truly horrifying dream. It was her. Pretty as always. Sewing something. Her belly big with pregnancy. Jesus, five children already born, of various ages. Three boys and two girls. In a big house. It reminded him vaguely of his own, and so, for a short moment, Michael had been happy. They were his kids, then. … Actually, the idea of fatherhood intimidated him. But hey. These were HIS kids. And then Michael went to her. And she smiled.

And then HE was there. That Ruji bastard gave HER a kiss. On her pregnant belly. And then Michael realized these weren't his kids. They were Rujiel's. And then Nema looked up at Michael and asked, "Who are you, again?"

God… fucking HORRIFYING. Michael didn't want to be around that. And that kind of a future was possible, now… now that the Ruji bastard stole kisses from her whenever he wished. And Michael wondered if maybe he SHOULD have stopped picking fights with Nema. … After all, she wasn't a very weak girl. If she were, Michael wouldn't have ever enjoyed her company. So… maybe it would've been okay to just… let her go. Not because he didn't love her… because he still did. But because… it was just too hard… and there had already been too much pain…

Again, Michael shook his head. In spite of his internal contemplations he had been drawn into Rabbit Territory. He wasn't sure what brought him here. For once, he wasn't looking for a fight…

But someone else, with more than enough misfortunes on him, wouldn't have minded a fight. And there he was, with his peculiar black and white hair and angry garnet eyes.

"What the Hell are you doing here, White Wing?"


	28. Chapter 28

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty Eight_

By: Brenli

"So?" Rujiel said darkly. Oh, this was truly a bad, bad day. He couldn't have Nema, and Nyssa… well Nyssa was never his to BEGIN with… and now there HE was. With his dragon tattoo and his broad white wings. Michael. "What the Hell are you doing here, White Wing?"

Michael met the crude greeting with a sour face. "… I'm hunting. Maybe you could tell me where your beloved Queen is."

"Fuck you. She doesn't need to see you anyway."

"Never said I wanted to SEE her, did I?" Michael had absolutely NO idea how these lies were flowing from his mouth so easily. Somehow, in the presence of this Ruji bastard, the lies flowed so smoothly. It was almost sickening. "If I have to lay my eyes on her, it's just to kill her, is all!"

Rujiel had acted with a swiftness only a Rabbit seemed capable of, taking Michael up by the neck of the dark cloak he wore as a Hunter. "I dare you to make that threat again…!"

"Feh!" The Fire Angel grinned cruelly and kicked himself away from Rujiel's grasp, landing a particularly painful one in his ribs. "A shame I didn't bring my sword with me! I'll have to kill you off in a less bloody way!"

"What are you gonna do? Burn me to death? You think I can't DODGE?" And in response to Michael's sudden burst of flame, he rushed to the right. "This game is gonna get old, Michael-SAMA!" But it was as at this moment that Michael managed to catch the bottom of Rujiel's shirt on fire. In the midst of the fire Rujiel swore and ripped off the gray fabric, his black wings beating off the flames before they could do much damage to his pale skin. "Fuck!"

Michael couldn't help but grin, allowing himself to get lost in this fight. "I think I'll enjoy roasting you up. A toasted treat for your fucking Queen! Wouldn't it be great to see her cry her little eyes out?" He lied easily. "Or if she won't care, someone else will! Some other little Rabbit whore!" The Fire Angel prepared to say so much more, to lie so swiftly and about so many things, but he was quickly pounced on. The rough ground seemed to tear at the fabric of his black cloak as Rujiel brought him down, an enraged yell exploding from him.

"… RUJIEL!"

Oh, no. Was it…?

She ran forth, her little, pale hands grasping Rujiel's equally pale shoulders. "NEMA, GET OFF!" Rujiel cried, trying to shake her off, but she maintained a firm grip, continuing to pull at Rujiel's shoulders. There she was… the wound still at her neck… not even washed…! It was going to get infected at that rate… And though the Fire Angel had boasted of wanting to kill her, he really did want her to go get that washed up, at least. Why the Hell did he bite her like that? Oh, if only he hadn't popped so many fucking pills!

For a very short moment, her red eyes clashed against his. They echoed more pain than Michael would have liked to admit seeing, but she seemed more worried… for HIM… HIM? Completely foolish…! But there she was, her pale hands still pulling at Rujiel, and she cried, "YAMATTE!"

And then Rujiel let Michael go, clearly frustrated, and did something he would come to regret. The Fire Angel watched Rujiel strike her once across her pale face. "HE IS THE ENEMY!" He screamed at her, "WHAT IS IT WITH WOMEN? NEVER CHOOSING THE GOOD MEN!" And he pushed her. And Michael watched her fly back and hit the back of her head against the rough bark of a tree.

This sudden violence… it was mild compared to what he saw on a normal basis, but this particular violence… released on HER… it woke up a part of the War Angel that had been lying under layers and layers of loneliness. And so he was on his feet and running several strides forward, able to intercept Rujiel's charge with enough force to remain standing, two men caught in a struggle for two different reasons, white wings clashing with black.

Michael had forgotten that Nema had an amazing tolerance for pain. Suddenly, there she was again, pulling Rujiel's shoulders. It was Michael's turn to tell her off. "THIS ISN'T YOUR FIGHT, FUCKING QUEEN!" He swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched the internal pain cross Nema's ruby eyes once again. But it was true, in a way. This wasn't her fight and he wanted Nema far away from this.

Still she stayed, still she pulled, her hands slipping from Rujiel's shoulders and gripping tightly onto Rujiel's black feathers. "RUJIEL…! STOP IT!"

"I'll kill him…! And make it all better!" Rujiel suddenly drew an army knife from one of his pockets, flipping out a fresh sharp blade, and began making the motions to stab the Fire Angel through his heart. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

"NOOOO!"

Two pairs of red eyes and one pair of blue-green ones widened simultaneously, surrounded in a shower of bloodied, ebon feathers.

Nema was horrified. Completely, utterly, truly horrified… How had she let that happen? Caught up in the urgency of the situation… spotting the flash of light off of Rujiel's blade… she'd suddenly let go… she'd suddenly… ruptured Rujiel's wings, and now Michael quickly stepped back and allowed Rujiel to fall to his hands and knees, shoulders shuddering in the pain.

The loss of wings had always been described as nothing less than indescribable. Whether one had white or black wings made no difference in this horrible situation, in which the insides deteriorated and the back burned until one was nothing but a shell, horrid, hungry. No longer a person or even an animal… something so much lower. A ghoul and nothing more. And now Nema let the horror and guilt wash over her as she dropped down next to him and she cried to him. "R-Rujiel…! Oh my God…!"

"…G-God…?" Rujiel managed to choke out in his pain… The truth was, the pain was so intense he couldn't bear to speak. He watched and felt her pale arms slip around him, and she cried into his ear.

"I'm sorry! … I didn't… I'm sorry…!"

"N… Nyssa…" Rujiel said through gritted teeth. "Take care… of Nyssa… and L-Lill..iel…" He tried to hold down the strange growl that was forming in his throat.

But Michael heard it all too clearly. "… Nema…" He said quietly. He knew what was next. After so much time watching Rabbits get Wing Cut… of cutting the wings off Rabbits, himself… he knew… it took less than a quarter of the time for a Rabbit to…

Rujiel was not finished with his final, humanistic words. "Tell her… I l-love her… N… Nyssa…!" He growled out miserably.

"NEMA! RUN!" Michael took hold of Nema's arm and pulled her roughly to her feet as Rujiel let out an animalistic roar and seemed to explode into the strange, gruesome, half-rotten form that was a ghoul. And Rujiel was no longer Rujiel… but an empty, ugly shell… A hungry shell.

"GO!" The Fire Angel commanded, warding off this albino ghoul with a wave of flames. And then he took her by her pale hand and ran with her, the ghoul at their heels.

Nevermind that they were no longer one. That all the time spent on opposing sides had caused enough pain to make them feel like they were from separate worlds. That Nema was a Queen of a Revolution… and Michael wore the dark cloak that supported the execution of her kind. Suddenly, their pasts didn't matter. At least for this moment, the only thing either of them were focused on was survival. In this, at least, they were allies. Finally allies in something.

Nema blinked aside the tears and immediately changed directions to try and confuse the ghoul that had formerly been her heartbroken friend, Rujiel. Michael was only two steps behind, looking back every now and then to ward off the ghoul with more fire. But now that Nema had changed directions, Michael quit and hoped her trick had worked.

"JESUS, IT'S A GHOUL!"

"RUJIEL?"

"QUICK! IT'S TOO LATE NOW, CHASE HIM OUT OF THE TERRITORY!"

"I SAW THE QUEEN AND MICHAEL!"

"NEVERMIND THEM! THE QUEEN CAN KILL HIM!"

If Michael wasn't too busy trying to stay alive, he would have liked to slay whoever those Rabbits were for saying that. He didn't need to hear something like that… He knew that with powers like hers she definitely could kill him, but it wasn't like he was okay with that kind of threat. He wasn't okay with the idea of death hovering between himself and the Rabbit girl he'd fallen for. Too many other things got in between them, as it was.

Now the ghoul was caught between chasing its two victims and running from the barrage of bullets that were aimed at it. It screamed in anger and eventually found Nema's trail again.

"FUCK!" Michael swore and sent yet another wave of fire at the ghoul, not paying much attention to the scream that left Nema. Soon he found out just why she had screamed. In the heat of the chase she'd tripped and taken a much deeper fall than she had expected, and now Michael joined her as they stumbled, collided into each other, and slid against the scratchy ground. Michael took hold of her and tried to roll onto the bottom of this awkward position, taking most of the scraping, but the unlucky pair reached the edge of another ledge and began a short freefall which concluded with Nema hitting ground first, her head enduring another collision against a tree. The two groaned in collective pain as they inadvertently slammed their foreheads against each other.

Michael bit back some swear words and laid still as Nema cringed below him, both of them covered with his black cloak, camouflaged in the dark.

"Where are they…? Where's the Queen?"

Michael held his breath, watched Nema struggle to hold hers as tears cascaded down the dirty, scraped, but somehow still beautiful face she possessed.

"… She must have killed him off or something. It's much too quiet for both of them to be alive."

"What if… SHE is dead?" Then they both heard a sharp slap.

"Our Queen is much too good to die. Where is the ghoul?"

"… Rujiel is no where to be found, now."

"… Wake up all the guards. We'll comb the territory to be safe."

And then they were gone.

"… My fucking head…!" Michael finally said quietly, pressing his hand to his forehead. He didn't bother to mention that he and Nema were pressed against each other in the dark. It was awkward territory that he was going to try his hardest not to acknowledge for both their sakes. But what could he do, now? Pick a fight with her? He doubted she could put up her fists at this time… and his head hurt way too much.

"… Michael…" Nema said quietly as she cried. At first, he couldn't respond. She spoke his name with an aching sadness that he wasn't sure how to respond to.

After a long moment, with his hand still on his head, he asked her, "… You okay?"

And she choked on a sob and wrapped her sore arms around his shoulders, pulling her up against him. And she said nothing as she buried her face into his neck and cried. She cried and cried, for many things, for many reasons. For Rujiel and Nyssa and Lilliel. For the ones like Isobelle. For herself. For Michael, too. She just… cried. And after a moment, Michael's hand left his forehead and moved down to brush tears and dirt from her pale cheek. "I…"

Michael took her hands away from his shoulders and slowly pulled away. He fought the urge to kiss her. She looked like she was in dire need of a kiss. A small one. On her lips. Or just her cheek. Or just her forehead. Something small to at least show that she was cared for. Even if it was by him, one of the enemy.

He watched a cross look fall over her, and she wiped back the tears on her face with the black sleeves of her shirt… no… his shirt. HIS shirt. … She still had his shirt? … She was wearing it? "I…" She said again, with the tones of anger beginning to show through.

And then she struck him. She flung herself at him, and he, too tired to care, allowed her to pin him. And she slapped him hard across his dragon-covered cheek, the pain registering as minor when compared to the all the other scrapes and bruises he now carried… and the sharper internal pains. "I… fucking HATE how much I love you!"

And maybe that should have been obvious… that she still loved him. Maybe the suffering in her eyes during each fight should have sent the message to him. Or maybe, a part of Michael had always suspected that she still cared, though the vast majority of him believed that she was disgusted with him, hated him, had moved on. But now, with her wearing his shirt, having just embraced him… and now blatantly, honestly saying it to him… Michael lay there with his stinging cheek and blinked up with sharp blue eyes, his mouth opening to say something, but nothing coming out.

"Get out of my head…!" Nema cried to him, begging, lonely, angry. "Why can't I FORGET you? Why is it that you can DO what you've done and I still can't… KILL you? You let my life fall apart…!" Her pale fingers dug into the black fabric of his cloak. "… You have the nerve to single me out when you fight…" She took one of his hands and pressed it against the wound at her neck, which was definitely going to be infected now that dirt had gotten inside. "… Kiss me… nibble at me before you bite me THIS bad…! Are you having FUN picking on me? Hurting me?"

For the second time she slapped him. His hand remained over her wound. He allowed himself to feel how badly he had hurt her, the texture of torn flesh, and dirt, and dried blood, and knew this didn't compare to the internal wounds either one of them had dealt to each other.

"You promised once…"

Michael opened his eyes, still deep blue before Nema, and listened to her voice drop into a sad quietness.

"… Don't you remember? You promised me that you would stop hurting me if I told you it hurt… Is it REALLY… not that obvious that I am… dying inside? Do I seriously need to sit here and spell it out for you?" And then she cried out, "It hurts, Michael…!"

From far off Michael could hear voices… What a horrible time for other people to exist…! "Nema…"

She hadn't heard anything. "Why can't I stop loving you, when I even had… him?" She didn't need to say his name. They both knew who 'he' was. "And so what if it wasn't true? So WHAT if he was thinking of Nyssa, and I was thinking of YOU? He was still the better man…! And I… God… I still love you!" And then she fell down onto his scraped up chest, her tears stinging the tiny scrapes he had endured. "… It… hurts…" She cried softly. "It hurts…"

The voices were getting louder, now. The Fire Angel placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her up and away with more urgency than he had meant to. Nema stumbled back and remained on the ground, crumpled, banged up, suffering. It was… somehow… worse than the other things Michael saw in this war… or any other war, for that matter. He tried to speak. The only thing that left him was a sigh. And after shaking his head, he leaned forward and finally kissed her. It was a shy kiss, small, soft, pressed onto her pale forehead. And she cried, and he continued to kiss her. He would have preferred to stop the world at this moment. It was far too much to go through for a sorry couple like them. He was done. She was done. The world could stop existing, now. And he could keep kissing her until she was plain out of tears to cry.

But the world stops for no one. And Nema heard the voices, and pushed him away. It felt more like Nema had ripped out a decently sized chunk of his heart. "Go." She said firmly.

Michael's blue eyes narrowed, and he took her by the shoulders. "Nema-"

"Go now…! Or I will kill you!" Nema pushed him again, this time spreading her broad, dark wings and beginning the flight upward, toward the voices that approached.

"My Queen!"

"Don't bow." Nema said with a commander's tone, though she also sniffled.

"Yes… Nema-sama… that man… Michael turned Rujiel into a ghoul…!"

"No. It was my own doing."

"… What?"

"An accident… I would never kill Rujiel willingly."

"… I see. We must get you home. We're still checking the area for the ghoul…"

And then Michael heard them leave. He wasn't sure what would have been more appropriate… sitting here and letting the sadness fall over him… or killing off the Rabbits who had intruded on Nema's heartbroken speech. He was surprised to hear a kind of broken chuckle fall from him. It was, in no way, a sign of happiness. "… Yeah. I know it hurts..." And he left, just like Nema told him to.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"He loves me… he loves me not… he loves me… he loves me not…" Doll giggled and pulled off one white flower petal at a time, letting them fall carelessly onto the water in which she sat. She was taking a bath, not out of any necessity for cleanliness, but because this was often what she did in order to unwind. It was here, in her own little personal onsen, surrounded by flowers, that she could lie back and daydream. She didn't have to worry about a single soul bothering her here, and she liked it. "He loves me! Wait…" A pout suddenly crossed Doll's face. The last petal she had pulled off was actually two petals stuck together. "He loves me not…" And then the little maid snarled and threw the stem behind her. "Who cares about stupid flowers, anyway? They won't tell me if Uriel-sama loves me or not!"

Doll sighed and leaned back. She was being childish again, she knew it. But here, in her private bath, she needn't worry what anyone thought about her playing silly fortune-telling games. She could use flowers to find out if anyone ELSE loved her! Like… Katou! 'Cause APPARENTLY, Katou did think she was cute. "… Hmph! Katou is just a pervert! He doesn't count!" And then she thought about it for a moment… and plucked another flower. "… This is just 'cause I'm bored." She told no one, as though the other flowers, or maybe the flower she'd just plucked, needed to be reassured she wasn't serious about finding out if Katou was truly interested. "He… loves me, he loves me NOT. He loves me… he loves NOOOT…" And as she plucked each white petal she allowed herself to wonder if Katou was even worth plucking petals over. He was crude, perverted, and a cookie-stealer.

_Whoa! … Well, hellOOO._

Hmph! Just a pervert, indeed!

_Are your gears a little out of wack?_

… And a big jerk!

… _You okay?_ _… Sorry about the gears thing… _

But sometimes he was a little kind…

_If you'd just smile, kid, you'd be a total knockout._

… Still perverted, though!

_You're pretty, 'kay? Geez, who the Hell blew up YOUR ego?_

Hmph! Doll didn't HAVE an ego! She'd probably have one if Uriel actually decided to look at her the way she wanted him to, or if Uriel said things like, "You're pretty," or even, "You're a total knockout." Yes, Uriel could get away with saying that to her. But not Katou! It wasn't like Katou really cared about her, anyway, right?

_He decided to stick you in this pretty little body of yours, and for what? So you can make him tea? ... You can't possibly be OKAY with serving tea all day and not getting anything in return!_

Doll allowed a strange sort of laugh to fall from her as she plucked a petal. "Isn't that some kind of life, he says? … He loves me not… He right, it's not much of a life, is it? … He loves me…"

_He can't expect you to wait forever, can he?_

No, he couldn't expect that from her. It was inhuman to expect anyone to wait forever. Doll couldn't wait forever… "He loves me not…"

_Someone's gonna steal you away!_

Doll held her breath as she picked off the last petal. "He loves me." And it was almost like she could her him already…

_I'm gonna steal you away!_

"…" Doll blinked rapidly and then quickly threw aside the stem. "… Doll, you're dumb!"

"Oy…! Anyone here? What is this place…?"

Doll choked. She was deathly afraid to turn around, but she did it, anyway.

And then she screamed bloody murder.

"Jesus, Doll! Calm down!" Katou clamped his hands over his ears. Then he realized what Doll was doing. "… This is a bathroom?"

"GO AWAY!" Doll screamed and screamed, her face turned a vibrant shade of red. Oh my God… Katou was LOOKING AT HER! SHE WAS NAKED! "DON'T LOOK AT ME!" Oh this was NOT GOOD!

"DOLL! STOP SCREAMING OR –"

The screaming and wild splashing suddenly stopped, and he opened his eyes.

"… DOLL!"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"… So that was messed up. Don't hyperventilate, Doll…! It's scary! I thought you'd drowned yourself!"

Doll slowly stirred and groaned as she came to. She was lying on her belly, in her bed… one of her maid dresses sloppily put on, with the back zipper unzipped. She could feel her key still stuck inside her back. "… Uriel… sama?"

There was a long pause. "… Thanks, kid. Thanks."

Doll jumped. "Katou?"

"Yeah?" Katou promptly stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. He seemed more than a little annoyed thanks to Doll's misidentification, and she knew it.

"Katou…! I…" Doll took the key out of her back and zipped up her dress, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. "… You know, only Uriel-sama has my key! It's only natural I'd think that you were…"

"Yeah, well, whatever." Katou shrugged it off, but he still seemed angry. "… So, I think you should know I got the hallways all wet... your hair dripping everywhere and all."

"… Why did you do that…?"

"'CAUSE I WAS LOOKIN' FOR YOUR KEY, THAT'S WHY!" Katou snapped. "I was lookin' for Uri, but of course the one time I seriously need to find him, he's M.I.A.! Just my damn luck. Anyway, so a lot of the hallways are wet. I couldn't find your key so I think I must have tore up half the mansion lookin' for it. I found it, though. Could you believe it's not even in his bedroom? It's in the library! Who the Hell puts something that important in a LIBRARY? Hmph. Fucking stupid."

"… You were running around with me NAKED?"

"NO! Why do I think I'm not wearing my shirt anymore?" Katou pointed to a nearby chair, on the back of which was draped his simple shirt, wet with the water Doll had been covered with. "Must think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"Don't put words in my mouth! If I think you're stupid I'll tell you!" Doll pouted.

There was a long moment of silence. Katou seemed preoccupied with his cigarette, but Doll couldn't help but notice that his mouth was curling into a soft, disappointed sort of frown. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was about ready to go into a corner and cry, or something. She wondered if there were tears in his eyes…

She ended up coughing and choking on the smoke he blew in her face. Katou got up to leave. "Anyway, rise and shine. If you want me to clean the mess, kick me or something."

"Katou…!" Doll said after a couple coughs.

"What?"

"Thank you…!" Doll clutched her key to her chest and smiled. "That was very kind of you. No one ever tries to look for my key… Uriel-sama doesn't count because he knows where my key is, anyway… Everyone… usually leaves me where I am and looks for Uriel. No one ever tries to help me themselves…"

"Yeah… well…" Katou seemed at a loss for words. "… You're welcome."

"Katou!"

He looked over his shoulder. "What NOW?" He said this with a smile, however peeved he may have sounded.

"How can I repay you?" Doll immediately regretted asking him this question. He stared long and hard at her, and that scared her.

Then he smiled. "… Bake me cookies." And then he left.

And Doll found herself smiling. "… Pig."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Please… neither one of us can bear to do it ourselves. But you know… that it would be better if the child did not live. She is Improper. She must be spared that kind of life…"

The man and woman before the Fire Angel were overshadowed in this tremendously dark room, but he didn't care. He sneered. "It's not my job to pick off infants. Go to some other Hunter."

"Please…!" It was the woman who spoke, now. "Believe us when we say it would be more fitting if you did this…!"

"… Fine. I'll make it quick."

He turned. A single light from a hanging toy shone down into a simple wooden crib. A child cooed. Michael looked down at the little Rabbit. She was dressed in a simple, white cotton dress. She smiled from behind her pale fist and blinked up at him with huge red eyes, having no idea that he was a threat. Even when he pulled out a dagger and let the light reflect off the blade and onto her little hand, she seemed to find this harmless. Maybe the little infant wanted this.

No. That was silly. She was too young to know that daggers brought pain and ended lives. Well, then. Time to get it over with. With a simple motion Michael thrust the dagger deep into the little I-Child's chest. The parents cried. The little infant had died too quickly to make more than a strange, unfinished coo. Michael shut his eyes and pulled out the dagger, turning to face the child's parents. "Feel more at peace?" He spat. Then his eyes widened.

The forms of Setsuna and Sara fell together in mourning. When they looked up, they looked beyond him, and yet their gazes seemed to go beyond the crib, as well. So he turned away and held his breath.

There she was in a simple, white cotton dress, blood flowing from the wound on her chest. "Crooked." She said simply. She was… cheerful sounding as her little bare feet moved across the floor and to the crib. She smiled at Michael and pointed at the child. The infant began to sob wildly. "It was crooked."

Michael couldn't think. "… N… Nema…"

"Is that what you are going to call me before you kill me?" Nema took the infantile version of herself up in her arms. "What is a name to a baby who will not live much longer?"

"… But… I didn't… this isn't right…"

"But nothing ever is." Nema said simply, happily. "You should finish what you have begun." Michael watched in horror as Nema held her younger self before him, and as it cried in pain, Nema only smiled. "I will even hold myself still for you."

Michael shook his head.

"Then you would have me suffer. You really are cruel, aren't you?" Nema laughed, but her laughter stopped short in her throat as Michael stabbed the infant for a second time. Ironically… it took shutting his eyes to stab straight.

When Michael finally dared to open his eyes, the infant was no more, and his dagger was stuck in Nema's chest. "… It… hurts…" She said in a strangely peaceful tone, and then collapsed, her pale body falling from the dagger's bloody blade.

The room lit up. Setsuna, Sara… Raphael… Lucifer… Uriel… so many people… all gathered around the scene. Michael dropped the dagger and dropped down, cradling the limp body. Her eyes were locked upwards… she was smiling… It was the strange, peaceful smile that truly dug into the Fire Angel. He ignored all the faces plainly looking down at him. "… This… isn't what I want… I didn't know…" Michael screamed at Setsuna and Sara. "You didn't tell me it was her!"

"She needed to die." Sara said tearfully, and Setsuna added, "Her life would have been horrible…"

"… Raphael!" Michael looked up with pleading eyes.

The Wind Angel shook his head. "You know that would be cruel of me."

"… What are you so sad about? It wasn't like you loved her." Lucifer said coldly.

"I did…!" Michael snarled up at his unemotional brother. "I did love her…! I still love…" He hung his head and then he cried out loud, "I STILL LOVE YOU!" As though this might bring her back.

Michael jumped again, blankets flew, and he struggled to catch his breath. "… Another fucking nightmare…" He was sick of this routine. He fell back onto his bed, trying to focus on other things, but the only thing that echoed in his head were two words. It hurts.

After all the time that had gone by, he was a little surprised that Nema had remembered that promise he had made to her. He remembered that promise and those days, though. Locked in a house with Nema all day… it was hard to believe that at one time he had loathed that idea. Now he wanted those days back.

There was a knock on his door. "FUCK OFF!" He immediately snarled. There was a sigh and then paper was slid under the door. Then whoever it was left. After a long moment in which Michael glared at the door, he got up and picked up the paper.

It was a newsletter in regards to their position in the war. Usually Michael went ahead and burned these, having no interest in the number of Rabbit casualties except his own. But the headline immediately caught his eye: BLOOD FROM AN ANGEL OF GOD WILL PROVE TO CLEAR OUT THE RABBIT POPULATION!

Michael blinked and immediately began to read. The article ran thus:

_As many will know, the great Cheriour-sama has required many drawings of blood from one of the cheif Hunters, Micheal-sama. Up until recently no one has known of the reason behind these actions, but now it has been miraculously revealed!_

_The blood of Michael-sama, the Elemental Fire Angel, becomes a deadly compound strikingly similar to Assiah's napalm when put through purification processes and then frozen. Below we have two pictures: one of a rabbit prior to exposure to the blood, and one after._

Michael stared long and hard at the image of the white rabbit and the image of the charred remains that he assumed were the very same rabbit. His own BLOOD could do this…? Below the images was a small message. "R.I.P. Liberty the Rabbit. :)"

Michael scowled at the stupid humor and continued reading.

_Cheriour-sama has finally revealed to us a most interesting and spectacular plan to take the Rabbit population and ultimately exterminate them. He has taken this blood, which he has aptly named Holy Blood, and created a very large arsenal of bombs. Though most are small, do not be fooled, for they each pack a powerful and deadly punch.._

_We shall start with the warriors of the Rabbit nation, for it seems they are the ones more ready to die, anyway. As you may have noticed most of our official attack plans have been pushing the Rabbits to the Fields. It is at this place that Cheriour-sama has decided to begin using the Holy Blood…_

Michael read on through the article as it went into detail about leading the Rabbits into a valley within the Fields and then setting off the bombs. A landslide would form and bury them all, forcing them to burn to death in Michael's "Holy Blood."

He finished the article. He burned the rest of the newsletter. And somehow, in spite of all this information now sitting deep in him, the first words to really successfully form in his mind were: It hurts.

God… what would he do if he went there… and saw her… being buried alive… her beautiful, pale flesh becoming charred and black…? He knew that she would be one of the fighters at the front of the line. In spite of her position as a war leader, she had a fondness for taking up that spot. It was reckless of her and if Michael really had the chance he would have forced her to the back where the war leader is supposed to stay. But Nema always took to the front… she would be… one of the first to go.

Could he… handle that?

Suddenly Michael looked up at his door, from which was hung his black cloak. He tore it down, not caring that he had ripped a hole in the hood. And then he opened his door and left, and the cloak remained on the floor.

He wasn't ever going to HAVE to handle the idea of Nema burning in his own blood.

He marched and marched. He went down on flight of stairs and entered a hallway. And then he barked out a commander's order, throwing open several doors. "ON YOUR FEET, MEN!"

Yes, these were his men. Each of them Powers, and before they had ever become Rabbit Hunters, they were Michael's warriors. It had been so long since they had taken any orders from Michael, but they remained faithful to him, and though they were tired the each came forth and stood at their respective doorways, only half-dressed. But they would have been crazy to waste time dressing when Michael commanded them to stand.

Michael marched up and down the hall, sharply observing each of them. They were each in good shape. War did that to the stronger men. One thing disgusted Michael. Most of them had decided to throw on their cloaks, though they were all only half-dressed, otherwise. "I see you've gotten cozy with your cloaks, men." The War Angel sneered. "Take them off. That's an order. Take them off!" Without even giving them the chance to take them off of their own accord, Michael lit the bottoms of the cloaks on fire and watched as his men tore them off quickly and stomped on them. "I'm only sorry I didn't do this earlier…" He said under his breath, and then he stood at the doorway and said these words.

"I have told you time and again that after my 777th kill we would pull out. I have had faith that each of you uphold that deal, and that your allegiance is to ME, and not to Cheriour, who is a coward who will not face me. Was I wrong in having faith in you, men?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Good, then! I come to you now to tell you there is a change in plans. As of TONIGHT, we are no longer Hunters! Should a Hunter come to you to speak, you will tell him NOTHING! If you are invited to go on a hunt, you will not go! You will not take part in this plan involving Holy Blood and you will NOT, under ANY circumstances, refer to Cheriour as your leader! You will each pack your things tonight. If it takes all night you will not sleep, and if it takes all morning you will not eat breakfast. You will pack and you will leave for our main base, and you will stay there until further notice. Is that understood, men?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"I can't fucking hear you!"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

"Good! You are dismissed!" Michael finished his firm speech and left. He didn't care if he was loud. A part of him hoped that everyone heard and knew that Michael's troops were leaving.

He went up to his room and shut his door. What he didn't tell his men was that he himself was not leaving. The newsletter had said that he had three days until the big day, and he was going to spend those three days getting information. He would find a way to get those bombs Cheriour had made and he would find a way to destroy them. Or he would place them all around THIS place and set them off. Surely, Cheriour was hiding SOMEWHERE in here. If he wasn't, oh well. He'd find him and kill him off eventually.

Michael opened up his window and looked out, allowing a low sigh to escape him. Three days… that wasn't much time. But he would make due with the time he had. He would try to save her. "… Just sorry it took so long." He said to no one, and then he tried to get some rest.

He had a pleasant dream, this time. He was reliving a night he had already shared with Nema. She laid upon her bed, dressed in that pretty black corset, about to slip into slumber, and he had her rosary wrapped around her fingers, and he was making a holy promise. But the promise was different this time.

"I promise to protect you, and I promise to save you if anything comes to hurt you."

"But above all things, do you promise to love me?"

"I promise. On God's holy rosary, I swear it. On God's holy rosary, I seal it."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

AUTHORESS NOTE: Mmmmmmmmph, so glad it's summer break, now! Nothing to keep me back except for work and my ever-increasing need to clean my room… eheheh.

ANYWAY, yay for 28 and whatnot! I still can't believe that I'm going to cross over 30 chapters… I mean, that can't be healthy, can it? Hmm… Oh yeah, and yay for the holy promise thing, but I'm not sure if any of you remember Michael giving Nema a holy promise because that was like a THOUSAND chapters ago (or just on chapter 11)!


	29. Chapter 29

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Twenty Nine_

By: Brenli

For the second time, Nema walked before her people with her head hung. Once again the murmurs formed an uncomfortable buzz around her, but she tried hard to ignore it as she focused on trying to hide the slight limp from her right leg. After taking that fall with Michael, she was more banged up than she would have liked to admit.

"… Oh, Nemaaa…! Your mini-crown…! It's… crushed!" Lilliel suddenly said from beside her, hopping along. "Do you want to wear mine?"

Nema stopped limping and looked down at Rujiel's little sister.

"… Nema…?" Lilliel brushed aside her curls and frowned up at her. "Why are you crying…?"

The battered Queen suddenly dropped down and wrapped the oblivious little girl in a hug. "… I'm sorry…! Lilliel, I'm so sorry…!"

"… Why?"

Nema stood, not wanting to tell her why just yet. She would rather call everyone together and get it done in one blow… and then deal with the reactions as they presented themselves to her. "I have an important announcement to make. We will all meet in the soapbox room." And then she limped on.

The soapbox room was not really the soapbox room, anymore. Since the Revolution, the soapbox room had been transformed into a meeting room for open debates and planning; however, the name still stuck. The soapbox was no longer there, but there was a small sort of stage set in the midst of seats on all sides, and in these seats as many I-Children as possible filtered in, some roused from sleep, others wide awake. Several more crowded along the back walls and in the doorway. The younger Rabbits liked to sit on the floor, right at the edge of the stage. As it was late there weren't many young ones, but Lilliel was there, her face wrinkled in confusion and worry. And Nema stood in the middle of the stage and felt all these eyes on her, and she wondered if they would all yell and attack her once they found out what had happened. Though some mocked Rujiel for his strange devotion to Nyssa, it was widely accepted that he was clearly one of the hardest working of the men, and therefore he was held in high regard.

But now, Rujiel was nothing but a half-rotten shell of the man he once was.

Suddenly, the room exploded in a flurry of voices. Most of them expressed worry for her, while a few others tried to quiet everyone else down.

Nema held up a hand, and the room went silent. She bit her lip. "… I am the least of your worries, as always. If I were to fade out, my cause would still be there and I expect you to carry it out in my memory. My health is not your concern."

"… But what happened to you?" A voice said from behind her. She turned to see that Nyssa had entered from the opposing doorway and stood in it, all the other I-Children spacing themselves from her. Her eyes were ringed with red, as though she had been crying, but Nema dismissed it. She turned back around and began speaking with her head hung.

"… Tonight I had engaged in a quarrel between Rujiel and Michael."

"So Michael did this to you?" Voices began to ask, and several threats formed just as quick.

"The wounds that you see on me are merely the result of a nasty fall I ended up taking." Nema said firmly.

"So where is Rujiel, then? Washing Michael's blood off his body, no doubt…!" Some male voice said gruffly, his laughter coming through in half-coughs, like a chronic smoker.

Nema clenched her fists and took a deep breath. "… Rujiel will not be coming home." To the deafening silence, she was quick to quell any assumptions. "It is not what you would think. Michael is not the one at fault. I am."

This fact did stir a low rumble of words. Nema couldn't be sure if they were angry, shocked, or disbelieving. Maybe they were all three. Nema looked down at Lilliel, whose pink eyes were wide with shock, and she spoke to her, but loud enough for the whole room to hear. "You know I would never, EVER mean to… I'm not asking for anyone's forgiveness, but the truth is it really was an accident…! I slipped… I was too high-strung… too lost and frantic… and I slipped. And I'm so sorry I slipped…! Lilliel… I am sorry."

She watched as Lilliel scrambled up on the stage and rushed up to her, tears already running down her face. "… He is… dead?"

"… A ghoul." Nema told her. She knelt before her, and then she bowed, ignoring the fact that Lilliel was much younger and traditionally should not be bowed to at this level. "I can't say it enough… I'm sorry."

Then the unbelievable happened. Nema felt Lilliel press her hands against the crown of Nema's head, stroking the mussed, white hair. "… Rujiel would be very sad if he saw you bow to me like this. I'm sure… that he forgives you if it was an accident. I am going to, too."

Nema looked up from her low bow and asked, "… What?"

"I mean… you just lost your fiancé. I think that if you must be punished… that's punishment enough, isn't it? I forgive you… and I'll bet… Rujiel does, too…" Lilliel's sudden peak in maturity was marred with her firm belief that Rujiel and Nema had been engaged, but it was there, nonetheless. Nema didn't know whether to be thankful or cry more. Lilliel turned and addressed the large, pale audience. "If anyone has any angry feelings about this, you can just get over it." Then she looked back at Nema, who only bowed her head in shame. "… You're dismissed!"

Nema heard the shuffles and murmurs of the people leaving, and after a while the room grew silent. Then she felt the light pressing of Lilliel's lips against the top of her head.

"I said I forgive you…" She said quietly. "You should go to bed." And then finally, Lilliel was gone, too.

It was a long time before Nema actually stood up to leave. Now that no one was around to see her, she allowed herself to groan in pain as she stood hunched over. "… In so much… fucking pain…"

"I hope you stay that way for what you did."

Nema's pale head whirled around to see that Nyssa was still in the room with her. She had taken several steps down into the soapbox room, and now she stood on those stairs, her body firm and stiff in anger, her red-rimmed, electric green eyes brimming with tears.

"… You… KILLED him…?" Nyssa hissed lowly.

Nema frowned and lowered her head. "I am s-"

"You better look up at me and REPEAT what you said!"

In surprise, Nema lifted her ruby eyes up to the I-Child before her. This was not the Nyssa she knew. The Nyssa she knew never changed in her manner and thought processes. She was never emotional… and now… she was something very different.

Something Nema wasn't sure she was ready for.

"DON'T STAND THERE LIKE SOME BEATEN OLD HAG! YOU WON'T GET PITY FROM ME!" Nyssa suddenly screamed.

"But you already heard what I said…!" Nema cried back. It was weak of her and she knew it. She knew she ought to have expected a confrontation from SOMEONE. And yet, these were the first words to come out of her mouth.

"I don't care." Nyssa began taking more steps down to the stage. "You'll say it to me slowly. And clearly. Repeat what you said! I don't care if it hurts you so much!"

Yes, so it was punishment, then. Nema supposed that was fair enough. "… I turned Rujiel… into a ghoul."

"You DESTROYED HIM!" Nyssa snarled and jumped down the last four steps and leapt onto the stage. "He was a good man and you DESTROYED him…!"

"It was an accident, Nyssa…!" Nema took a few shaky steps back, her eyes quickly shifting down to Nyssa's pale fists. Had she imagined that they crackled like lightning for a short moment?

"Accident, my ass!" Nyssa ignored the tears that had begun to escape her eyes. "He was going to kill your White Wing lover, wasn't he? He was going to kill Michael off! And it would have shifted the war in our favor, and you KILLED him for it!"

"… Nyssa –"

"You killed Rujiel to save your fucking White Wing boyfriend! And you call yourself a war leader…! What good is it holding your heart over a whole nation of people that are depending on YOU?"

The words struck a chord inside Nema, and she exploded forth, suddenly failing to feel the pain in her body, and she hissed back, "Don't talk to ME about those priorities! Are you so much better? I shouldn't HAVE to be a war leader, and you know why? Because YOU should have finished it a LONG time ago! But where did YOU go? Off into your room to long for Cheriour, or Ashriel, whether they be the same man or not!"

And suddenly Nyssa stepped up and struck Nema. Nema fell and actually had to shake her head before she could stand. The slap had sent a sharp shock through her, and when Nema looked at Nyssa again, she realized all too clearly that there was much more to Nyssa than she had assumed. Most Angels, I-Children or not, were not equipped with special powers. Among I-Children, however, there were a few uniquely powerful people. People like Raziel, and now Nema… and now Nyssa, apparently.

"I AM NOT LIKE YOU!" Nyssa cried sharply. "I DIDN'T BREAK RUJIEL'S HEART, LIKE YOU, HUSSY!"

"On the contrary…" Nema said darkly. "Everyone knows that you broke Rujiel's heart. Every day of his life."

It was the wrong thing to say, Nyssa flew at her. Nema fell and tried to block the fists coming at her, but blocking was pointless with the lightning currents flowing from Nyssa and into Nema. "IT'S NOT ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS HOW I DEALT WITH RUJIEL!" Nyssa shouted and cried. "I CAN'T AND WON'T LOVE ANYONE, ANYMORE! ALL IT DID WAS CAUSE HORRIBLE THINGS! PEOPLE DIE BECAUSE OF LOVE!"

At last Nema fought the pain and curled her legs up, kicking Nyssa off of her. "Then you are no better than Cheriour for thinking that!"

"… YOU are the one like Cheriour! How many White Wings do you kill off every day by your own hand, in spite of the fact that you LOVE one? You are a MURDERER! You commit genocide, just like HIM!" Nyssa's angry speech was interrupted by a swift kick in her side.

"I kill them all because they agree with and approve of the pain WE go through…! Almost ALL of them… have committed the acts themselves!" Nema grit her teeth against the pain that was coursing through her entire body by this point. "Beating and raping and killing us all…! Each of those Hunters is guilty of that by this point in time! And you're sympathizing with them NOW?" Nema let out a pained scream as Nyssa whipped out one of her arms and tripped her.

"Is your White Wing lover guilty of those things, too, then? And you still love him!" Nyssa sneered and started to laugh, but it stopped short in her throat. "… What are you doing…?" Sharp pains were beginning to press out from the middle of her chest. Her ribcage felt an unmistakable pressure, as though they would break soon.

Nema blinked the tears out of her eyes. "… I never… EVER said that my being in love with Michael was a GOOD thing. I have TRIED to forget him. I have tried to HATE him… and by this point I have almost succeeded. In spite of that I will tell you now… that I love Michael."

"Whore!" Nyssa snarled, and then cried in pain as the pressure traveled up to include her head.

"I have only had sex twice in my life; how DARE you call me a whore!" Nema cried. "Do you honestly think that I have NO idea where you are coming from…?" Nema sniffed back an angry sob. It managed to escape in the choked up form of a bitter laugh. "Why do you think you're ALONE? I know that pain…! To love someone so much… to believe that they love you, too… to have that thrown in your face… get it beat into you… and then you have to face that fact, that they probably DON'T love you and want to HURT you… every fucking day. I KNOW THAT PAIN. I took comfort in the fact that you understood me! Why can't you do the same?"

Nyssa struggled with the pain. She was unable to look Nema in the eye. And for a while Nema believed that Nyssa was going to begin sobbing from a mixture of physical and emotional pain, until Nyssa exploded in a brilliant array of electric beams and sparks that sent Nema off the stage and head first against the first row of seats. Nema fell out of view, and Nyssa felt Nema's hold over her drop away suddenly. Had she knocked her out?

Nyssa crawled to the edge of the stage. Her ribs still ached from the pressure they had endured. Nema was sprawled out in a slightly crumpled mass, eyes closed, body limp.

And Nyssa cried and said quietly. "… It's not the same." She shut her bright green eyes and whispered to Nema's limp body. "It's not the same…! You didn't have Rujiel there as long as I did…! He wasn't there for you… like he was for me… when no one else would even look your way… because you were the one who had gone mad. And he was there, anyway…" She swiped at the rivers of tears flowing down her snowy pale face. "And now he won't be there… and it's not the same for you… because you won't wake up and feel like there is no one else who will care for you. And you won't feel like… maybe… you didn't choose the right one…"

"That's true…"

Nyssa suddenly looked at Nema, who was trying… desperately… to just sit up. She crawled and shifted her weight towards the stage… and Nyssa noticed how Nema was practically giving it her all just to cross her arms over the edge of this low stage and rest her chin against it. However, most of this damage was not even by Nyssa's hand. Nema had already been wounded prior to their little fight. But Nyssa had been too angry to acknowledge this and had even had the cruelty to use her rarely-exercised power on her. Well… so much for honor.

Nyssa watched Nema take a deep and shaky breath and actually found it in herself to be slightly ashamed, however angry she still felt. One thing that had never changed about Nyssa was that she was a woman of honor, but in this moment… feeling completely enraged and lost… she'd forgotten her morals.

And then Nema began a low laugh that made Nyssa angry all over again. "What's so funny?" She hissed.

Nema allowed tears to escape her eyes and gave Nyssa a sidelong glance. "… Us."

"… I fail to see ANYTHING funny about US!"

"But it is funny… we are… stupid." Nema sniffled and laughed more loudly. "So completely stupid… you and I. Do you want to know the real reason why we are fighting?"

"… What?"

"… We are heartbroken. That's what it all comes down to. We're so heartbroken all we can THINK about is that kind of pain. We are BLIND girls, you and I… A pair of idiots." Nema paused to take another shaky breath.

"… Angry idiots." Nyssa couldn't help but agree solemnly.

"… Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn."

"That's Shakespeare…"

"I know."

"… Didn't think you knew Shakespeare."

"Why? Because I grew up in Japan?"

"… Maybe."

Nema laughed weakly. "How horrible. Do you think I'm a heathen?"

Nyssa allowed herself a crooked smile. "… I'm still mad at you, you know."

"I'm not asking you to forgive me." Nema agreed quietly. "I do want to ask you to stop beating me… no magical lightning fists… or plain fists, for that matter… I'm already bruised… and scraped… and achy… and even bitten… probably just for good measure. One more blow from you and I think I'll be out for a week."

"Maybe you deserve to be out for a week."

"Maybe. If you decide to knock me out anyway… then at least I tried to reason my way out of it." Nema shrugged. "… But Nyssa?"

"Yeah?"

"It truly was an accident. Even though I left Rujiel, I did and do still care for him… In fact, I left him because I cared enough to stop lying to him about… who I really love. I just want you to know that. I will miss him. I miss him right now." Nema finished quietly and closed her eyes.

For a while, neither of them moved. Nyssa was convinced that Nema had probably fallen asleep, but then Nema shook her head and began the long struggle to stand. "Okay. That's pathetic." Nyssa got off the stage and stood next to her.

"Well… pardon me for being, you know… beat up." Nema rolled her eyes and continued to struggle. She froze when she felt Nyssa suddenly wrap her arms around her and begin heaving her up. Nema leaned against her and tested her right leg again.

"Did you break it?" Nyssa asked plainly.

"No… just strained." Nema winced at the pain and sighed. "… Thank you."

Nyssa didn't bother to acknowledge Nema's last two words. "Where to?"

"The big bath."

"At this hour?"

"… I am dirty and bloody."

"… Point taken." Nyssa helped Nema walk the whole way there. "… What if you drown?"

"… Fair enough. Maybe I deserve it." Nema pushed open the door and limped in. Before her was the large women's bath. No one needed to use it, if they were too modest. But to Nema it was a touch of home, as though she had taken a Japanese public bathhouse with her.

"… You should take a day off, tomorrow."

Nema looked over her shoulder with wide red eyes. "… I didn't know war leaders HAD that option."

"… I led a rebellion once."

"… You want to cover for me?"

"I have that ability."

"And what about everyone else?"

"They're assholes. I'll show them I still have what it takes." Nyssa said firmly. "… We have a deal, then?"

Nema allowed a tired smile to cross her face. "… Sure. We have a deal."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Two seconds... One...

"Oh, there we go!" Doll chirped to herself as the timer went off. She'd made the oatmeal and raisin cookies because she had noted that when she finally found the batch of cookies Katou had last stolen, he had eaten mostly that kind. Yes, she'd seriously made Katou a batch of cookies, just for him. And yes, she knew that he wasn't being serious about that request. But she decided to take it upon herself, anyway.

After waiting for the cookies to cool just a little bit, she put them all in a little basket and prepared to leave in her new maid outfit. She had taken into consideration that Katou did find her maid dresses cute, so she made a new one. She didn't want to say it was just for him, or anything like that, though she had to admit she was looking forward to forcing Katou to admit that he found her cute as she delivered cookies in this shorter and much more lacy version of her typical uniform.

Doll could not possibly begin to explain why she found forcing Katou to admit such a fact was so uplifting to her. Because the truth was it really did make her feel like she should be proud of herself. The truth was that lately, Doll found herself picking on Katou with much more happiness than she had when she served Uriel. Why? She didn't know.

She knocked and heard a low groan and a thud that she believed signified Katou's body rolling off the bed and onto the ground. A muffled, "Fucking bed...!" was confirmation of that.

The door to Katou's room opened. "... I'm tired. Go away."

Doll did an overdone pout, her bottom lip quivering. "But I brought you your reward for finding my key and winding me back up...!" She held the basket before her and allowed the scent to waft up under his nose.

It seemed to wake him up a good deal. "You made the best kind!"

"I did!" Doll smiled. "For you." She gave him the basket and he readily took it.

"Thanks!" Katou smiled, but it faded a bit as he eyes focused on Doll, "... What's the occasion?"

"No occasion." Doll said as she let herself into his room. The maid in her took over. "... THIS IS A MESS! YOU REALLY ARE A PIG!"

"Hey, kid, it's not like you've ever bothered to come in and clean my room up for me, you know…" Katou said carelessly as he chewed on a cookie.

Doll sighed at him. "I shouldn't HAVE to pick up after you! I am Uriel's maid, not yours!"

Katou was quiet for a moment, making a big show of eating and enjoying the cookie in his hand. He even licked his fingers. "God, good."

"Don't get too passionate with my cookies… that's creepy." Doll shuddered.

"Would you rather I get passionate with you, then?"

Doll froze. "What?"

Katou held up a finger to make her wait as he bit into a second cookie. "… Mmmph. Noffing important."

But the little maid marched up to him, stealing his cookie and sending him a fiery glare, her lips forming a small pout. "You're being a pervert again!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't come in here with a dress like that on ya. I see cleavage."

Doll suddenly blinked rapidly, looking down to check. She blushed. "… D-don't look there, you JERK!"

"Don't come in here with a dress like that." Katou replied coolly. "You can't tell me you aren't running around in that dress for NO reason." After a pause he asked, "You gonna go and try to seduce Uri again?"

"NO!"

And suddenly Katou smiled. "Well, then!"

Doll gasped at the implication. It wasn't like that at ALL! Not really. "I-it's not what you're thinking! You're just a stupid, lazy, cookie-eating pervert!" She screamed and sent mental daggers at him.

Katou merely held up his hands. "And you're just an anal retentive maid."

"Hmph!"

"And you're cute when you're angry."

Doll opened her mouth, but she could find no words to say, so she set to work making Katou's bed. She didn't seem to notice how completely and utterly silent the room became, or that Katou had stopped feasting on the fresh cookies.

"Doll…"

"What?" Doll snapped, feeling thoroughly fed up with him. And to think, at one point she was grateful for him! Hah! Never again!

"… Stop."

"Oh you don't WANT me to clean your room? Do you NEED it messy?" Doll bent over and made ready to climb onto his bed.

"… PLEASE stop!"

It was then that she felt Katou rush forward and pull her off his bed. "DO YOU MIND?"

"I mind, I mind!" Katou stepped away from her. "Just… for a modest maid, you know… you are very… oblivious."

"What are you TALKING about?" And then it finally clicked. Her skirt… was FAR too short to successfully make his bed without giving him some kind of eyeful. "… Oh."

"… So you can't get mad at me for that one. I was actually being a GENTLEMAN about it. So there." And just like that, Katou was back to eating cookies.

"… So you like it?"

Katou looked up at her from his seat at his little table.

"The cookies?"

A smile touched his features. "No one makes 'em better."

"Good. I'm glad."

Katou inhaled another cookie before talking again. "… That's good, then. I want you to be happy." And then he stuffed another cookie in his mouth.

"… Katou?"

"Mmmph?" Katou chewed thoughtfully.

"You said that stuff… about waiting."

He looked up at her blankly.

"… You said I couldn't wait forever. For Uriel."

"… Mmm." Suddenly Katou seemed more intent on looking at the basket of cookies.

"… How long can I wait for him, then?"

He stood up. "I don't wanna talk to you about this."

"But WHY?" Doll whined. "You're the only person I CAN talk to about this!"

"I doubt that."

"… PLEASE, Katou? I just want your honest answer."

"You're gonna hate my honest answer."

But Doll stood firm. "Just TELL me! I can take it!" But she couldn't.

Because Katou rushed forth and pressed his mouth to hers in a desperate kiss. Really, truly, it was desperate. It wasn't rough, but there was an urgency in the way his lips brushed onto hers. She froze and tasted the sweetness of cookies and Katou's own mouth… and then it was gone. And Katou sat back down and stuffed another cookie in his mouth.

She stared at him as he chewed and chewed. His blue eyes betrayed a great deal of confusion that he couldn't mask, no matter how hard he tried. She took a breath. "… What was that?"

"I don't know what it was."

"That's a lie. You know what it was…!"

"It was a kiss." Katou mumbled. "You know what kisses are, don't you?"

"I know what kisses are!" Doll whined. "… But…"

"… But…?"

"WHY did y-"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Katou snapped and chewed on another cookie. For the first time Doll saw Katou not as a pervert or a mooch, but as a simple man. Currently… a very troubled man.

"… That's a lie, too." Doll said quietly.

"… Yeah. I know it is." Katou watched Doll sit on the floor beside him, her adorable head by his knee. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting. I will sit here until you talk to me about what you just did."

"Well I don't know what to say about it! You'll be sitting there for hours! Don't you have to go get Uriel-SAMA some tea?"

"He can go without tea." Katou grew quiet. This time it was not because he was eating a cookie, so Doll repeated herself. "Uriel can go without tea."

They sat like that for a long time. Katou finished off four more cookies. Doll played with the lace at the edge of her short, poofy black skirt. "… I don't want you to wait for Uri anymore." He finally said.

"What?"

"I don't want you to wait for him. He doesn't love you. … That's the truth. Sorry if it was harsh."

Doll sat there beside him, her attention focused on her little hands. "… I believe that there is a chance he loves me."

"Why?" Katou said too firmly. To make up for it, he shoved another cookie in his mouth.

"Because… Uriel gave me a new life. He has told me time and again that when he first found me… he felt my pain and he wanted to get rid of that sadness."

"Uriel plays with souls all the time. That's why I'm here, and Setuna's here, and Sara's here, and Nema's here."

"But he wants to make me happy!" Doll suddenly cried. She felt a warm hand brush aside her dark curls, and she blinked back tears.

"… He hasn't made you happy yet… and how many years has it been? Enough time for Setsuna and Sara to have a little girl and raise her almost to adulthood on Assiah. 16 years at least, Doll… That's a long time to keep someone unhappy."

"… I… I'll tell Uriel that I love him!"

"Uriel already knows you love him. Everyone knows you love him." Katou paused, frowning at his own words. "… He doesn't know what he has." He mumbled after a stretch of silence. "You worship the man… clean his whole house… make him tea… cheer him up… compliment him… lately… you've been trying to seduce him. And he won't take you. I've never seen a man as blind as that. Unless he knows… and doesn't love you."

Doll shut her eyes, as though this simple action would keep the truth out.

"… It wouldn't hurt so bad if you just… walked away. You can still work for him. But Uri… doesn't love you, as far as I can see. It's not worth the trouble trying to bend someone to your will like that. There is better for you out there. You just need to look."

Doll sniffled and looked up at him. "… WHERE? WHERE is there better people?"

Katou opened his mouth, closed it, bit the inside of his cheek, closed his eyes, and fixed his gaze on the basket of cookies. "… I don't know." He was surprised to feel Doll's head nestle itself against his knee. "…Stop that. You're not my slave."

Doll ignored him. "… So why did you kiss me…?"

"Because…" Katou trailed off, picked up a cookie, prepared to eat it… and dropped it. "I wanted to make you feel happy." He couldn't meet her gaze, though he felt it burn into him. "I'm not being a pervert, and I'm not saying that I'm better…! I know I'm not better. I know 'cause I'm a freeloading, cussing, rude little bastard. I know. That's who I am. So I'm not saying I'm better, 'cause I know I'm not."

"You talk too much."

"I don't care." Katou replied swiftly. "So the point is, you know, at least… I want to give you the light of day. At least I notice you, and look at you the way you wish he would. I know I'm not him. I'm his fucking polar opposite, if anything. But I would be willing to treat you the way you want to be treated, that's all. But I can't live up to his reputation, 'cause let's face it, we're not even coming from the same general background. I won't ever equal him so I'll never replace him." He paused to take a shaky kind of breath. It seemed ragged and painful. "I'm not too stupid to know that. I won't ever be him. I'm not better than him, and you should go get better than him. Which means I'm not a part of this, and… that is… okay."

Doll listened to him speak without reservations and began to choke up on tears of a different kind. "… Katou-"

"That really is okay, I swear." Katou said quickly. "Just as long as the next time I see you, you're smiling, kid." He put on a semi-threatening scowl and poked her head. "You got that?"

Doll wiped the tears off her face and sniffled, letting a smile curled over her lips. "I was playing a game that day that you walked in on me… pervert."

Katou reverted to eating cookies again. "Yeah?"

"Yup. You know that daisy game?"

"I don't know shit about flowers. Ow!" Katou rubbed the arm that Doll promptly slapped. "What?" Katou scowled.

"You don't know the 'he loves me, he loves me not' game?"

"Obviously not."

"Well I was playing that before you walked in on me."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. It said that Uriel doesn't love me."

Katou couldn't help but snicker. "See? Even FLOWERS know that he doesn't love you."

"It said that you DID."

The room got quiet. "… Love's a strong word. You're cute and fun to be with. That's all I know."

Doll pouted. "So the flowers aren't that smart?"

"No. The flowers just read too many romance novels."

Doll laughed. "You should prove to me that you don't love me."

Katou's blue eyes grew wide. "… WHY?"

"Because I bet you can't!"

To her joy, he jumped up. "You're ON!"

"Fine then! If you don't love me, you won't kiss me ever again!"

"… That's it? That's all I have to do?" Katou's face twisted into a look of genuine confusion. Doll had to admit… that face was cute.

"Yes! But you should give me a proper thank you, because you forgot to do so!"

"What the Hell are you talking about? I said thank you!"

"But you didn't kiss my hand!"

"… That's not fair!" Katou growled. "You're tricking me into saying it!"

Doll held out her hand.

"NO!"

Then she pouted. "… You're going to make me unhappy if you don't act proper just this once…!"

"… You… conniving little b-"

"Hey!" Doll snapped. "You'll make me unhappy and ANGRY if you call me names!"

"… Why the Hell is my loving you so important to you?" Katou crossed his arms over his chest.

"So you admit to loving me!" Doll jumped up and hopped before him.

"I DID NOT!"

"… Fine. Fine then. Then I'm leaving."'

"… What?"

"I'm unhappy. I don't want to be here, anymore."

"THAT'S NOT FAIR, DOLL!"

"Well… life isn't fair, is it? … Farewell." Doll turned and attempted to leave him and sulk in pretend sadness. For she knew that he would crumble and kiss her hand. She didn't know WHY she knew. But… she did know.

She DIDN'T know that he would crush her against him and press another kiss to her lips. This time, Katou's kiss was much rougher and demanded. It was an angry and frustrated kiss. Maybe this was his way of getting back at her. She tried to pull away, but his grasp tightened to the point where she cried out a little, and then he deepened the kiss. Doll struggled and fought. But the horrible yet shamefully delicious part of it all was… Doll completely enjoyed this.

Katou finally ripped his mouth from hers. "… THERE. HAPPY?"

"… I never said that you had to kiss my mouth. Unless you loved me."

Katou's eyes widened. He was at a total loss for words. "That's… not… fair."

"Life isn't fair, is it?" Doll grinned. "Well it didn't make me happy, anyway."

"… WHAT?"

"It made me happy, but not happy enough."

Katou growled low in his throat. "… Oh YEAH? What made it bad?"

"You'll just have to keep trying to find out, now, won't you?" Doll said snottily, brushing her dark hair over her shoulder. She squeaked when he began pushing her, and then she was pressed hard against his door.

"Was that an invitation? Because I think you're too fragile and prudish to DEAL with me finding out."

"… Bet you I'm not."

"Prove it."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: It's fucking summer and my updates are still all retarded and slow! What the Hell is going ON? TT

Anyway… naughty NAUGHTY playful ending. They're allowed. I've written so many sad things, haven't I? It was good to take a lapse into some lighter and more sentimental things. Like a good day off.

Apparently Nema will be taking a day off. I have no idea what she'd be going with that kind of free time, though. Sewing more things? I don't know. I'll figure it out.


	30. Chapter 30

AUTHORESS NOTE: Lordy, lordy, Chapter THIRTY, now…! Truth to tell I am very much afraid to even fathom an end. Not to say that this won't end (sorry, kiddies), but I can't seem to ever predict the correct chapter this will end on.

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty_

By: Brenli

Nema didn't know how long she had been in the big bath. She'd gone about washing off the dirt and blood in a painfully slow manner, her pale fingers running over the scrapes. The wounds were a bright pink all around the edges. The bite she had endured was a vibrant red. She was infected all over, and when Raphael made his usual trip to her territory to aid her, she knew she would have to submit herself to his healing prowess.

When Raphael came to visit her, he often brought along her parents. Setsuna and Sara would continue to try and persuade Nema to call some kind of truce to the war. She never agreed. She also knew that Raphael himself didn't agree with that idea. "Your parents are too worried about you," he had said once, "if you called a truce, it is doubtful that Cheriour and his men would uphold it. They would betray you in the name of their beliefs."

Nema made it a point to discuss things other than the war when Raphael came to visit. If her parents were there they spoke of Uriel, and the ever-confusing attraction that was blatantly evident between Katou and Doll. Nema would always ask about the well-being of Barbiel. This, at least, would bring a glimmer of light into Raphael's icy blue eyes. She seemed to be handling the pregnancy with ease, he'd always told her with gratitude in his voice. She would be due… goodness, very soon…! Any DAY now…!

Aside from this small subject of happiness, Raphael was a quiet man, in her presence. Idly, she wondered if he still kept in contact with Michael. True, they were on different sides in this Revolution of hers. But they had been friends long before Nema had entered the picture and stirred up a war. She wanted to believe that in some awkward way, she hadn't strained their friendship. She also knew it was silly to believe that they could be on good terms after all of this. Logically, two enemies should not be interacting, should they?

When she had finished washing herself, she continued to sit in the hot water, the steam causing her snow white face to blush. She felt wetness of a different kind on her face. She was crying again. Not even of her own accord. And Nema assumed that was okay. She did have a good list of things to cry about. So she sat there, in the wee hours of the morning, crying and letting the hot water melt away the aches in her bones.

And then she fell asleep.

"Morning, Queenie."

"… What…?" Nema opened her red eyes and stared up at the form before her.

She wasn't sure what to say. Before her stood a Nyssa of a very different sort. Up until now, Nema was only acquainted with a Nyssa that wore loose, gray, average clothing, perhaps to mirror her placid spirit. But it could be safely said that as of last night, Nema had more or less met the Nyssa everyone had compared to Nema herself. A stronger, braver person.

Apparently Nyssa actually had great fashion sense, too. Even in Nema's beaten and half-tired state, she managed to keep a keen eye on clothing. She still wore her black boots, but they were a common staple with everyone's clothing, including Nema's. A pair of black leather pants that fit her so snugly it became a second skin against her pale thighs. Her black top was simply cut, but fit her better than her typical gray or white shirts. And from behind black-rimmed eyelids, Nyssa's green eyes looked down at her. "... You didn't drown."

She spoke with mild amusement in her voice, though she also seemed particularly firm in the way she spoke. Nema wasn't sure if that was because she wasn't used to Nyssa speaking with much emotion or because Nyssa was actually aggravated. "Should I drown?" Nema asked, her voice croaking a little with sleep.

Nema watched Nyssa idly rest her hand on her hip, taking to note that she had strapped a sword to her side. "… No. Cheriour should."

Nema blinked up at Nyssa, and then finally allowed a small smile to curl on her lips. "… Agreed."

"It's early, still. Raphael is here with some visitors for you. … I didn't think you would still be in here."

"I didn't think I would, either…" Nema climbed out of the water and wrapped a robe around herself, scooping up her dirty and torn clothing, picking up her mini-crown and boots. "I'll get dressed and join them right away."

"They're waiting outside your bedroom…"

Nema paused. "… Fine, they can see me in my bathrobe, then." Nema took it as a good sign that Nyssa chuckled.

They were silent as they walked, save for Nema quietly saying, "You should wear eyeliner more often. Looks good on you."

Nyssa had offered an equally quiet, "… Thank you."

"… Oh my goodness, Nemaelle!"

Nema paused, her red eyes widening. "… JINHO OPPA?"

"What happened, dear? Who did this to you?" The elegant vampire promptly took her clothing from her and kissed her hand. "Raphael-sama must fix you up right away! This won't do!"

Nema laughed and waved away Jinho's concern. "May I get dressed first, Oppa?"

Nyssa arched a pale brow. "… So you know this newcomer? I keep wondering how he ever got into Heaven just fine…!"

"Just the same way we get Lucifer to come into Heaven." Sara spoke up beside Raphael and her husband. "A big black Rabbit Hunter cloak…"

The visitors watched as both Nema and Nyssa sneered on instinct. "At least those things do us SOME good, then." The green-eyed I-Child known as Nyssa muttered.

Setsuna held open the door and allowed his daughter to step through, offering her a fatherly and concerned frown all the while. He shut it, and in mere moments, Nema reopened the door wearing, from head to toe: a white mini-crown, a black tube top, white cotton shorts (as she often wore when she was training), and her trademark, black knee-high boots. "… Nyssa."

Her green eyes shifted toward Nema. "Yes?"

"I'm assuming you know all the military strategies."

"Of course."

"Recite them for me, then."

Nyssa blinked. "… Excuse me, master!"

Nema sighed. "I just want to make sure. You only heard of the plans… from Rujiel."

There was an awkward silence, and then Nyssa began, "The Rabbit Hunters have been falling more on defense, so we're free to assume more offense maneuvers. The easiest cut to any of their bases is through the Rabbit Fields, but we're to try and find another route, if possible."

"… Wow. You've got that down word for word."

"Was there ever any doubt?"

"I guess there shouldn't have been." Nema agreed. "If the troops give you trouble, seek me out."

"Check." Nyssa shrugged and left.

Nema waved an arm for everyone to enter. "Nyssa was the leader of a rebellion prior to the Rabbit's Revolution. She has offered to take my place in military actions for the day."

"… You have a day off, then?" Sara asked with a relieved smile on her face, brushing back a stray lock of blue, wavy hair.

"Don't be too happy, mother. Really." Nema rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling, herself.

"After being wounded as you are, it's good you're taking a day for yourself," Setsuna said firmly. "… Have you considered a truce, yet?"

Nema said nothing this time, and Raphael spoke for her. "We'll take the silence as a rejection." The Wind Angel placed a bowl of warm water that he had been holding on the vanity and motioned for Nema to sit. "Looks like you just have minor scrapes on you, but there's a hefty amount. Did you take a good fall?"

"I'd hardly call it a good fall, really…" Nema sat and shrugged. "… How is Barbiel?"

"… A little ill. It'll be soon." Raphael cleared his throat.

"… Nervous?"

"A little."

Nema offered him a kind smile as he brushed his hand over the scrape on her left elbow, feeling the wound disappear, leaving behind a lingering warmth. "She'll be fine, so long as the master healer is there."

Raphael found it in himself to laugh. "I heal wounds, I don't deal with childbirth! ... Well, I will soon."

"What will you name it?"

"That's a surprise, thank you very much." Raphael said with a smirk, finished with healing her arms and beginning to run his hands down her back and across her belly. "Good Lord, how many scrapes do you have on yourself?"

"Too many." Nema answered shortly.

"Good answer." Setsuna nodded. "… So how is Rujiel?"

Nema fell quiet. "… I ended up hurting Rujiel on accident."

Raphael brushed his hand over her knee and got rid of a particularly nasty-looking cut. "Where is he?"

"… He won't be coming home."

The rest of the room fell silent, save for Raphael. "… You killed him? Where's the body…?"

"You can't revive him, Raphael." Nema said shortly.

The Wind Angel understood what that meant. "… I see."

Nema quickly batted away the tear tumbling down her cheek, but her parents saw it well enough. "Oh, sweetie…" Her mother said softly, and she stepped forth and kissed the crown of Nema's head.

Jinho arched a curious, dark brow. "Rujiel?"

"… He was my boyfriend for a while." Nema mumbled, refusing to look at the confusion on Jinho's tan face.

Raphael whistled in amazement when he came upon a long line of scraped and torn flesh traveling down the outside of Nema's right thigh. "Definitely took a nasty fall, didn't you?"

"I told you it was hardly a good fall."

"Any sprains or broken bones while we're at it, Nema?"

"No. This leg was giving me trouble the other night, but it's fine, now."

"Good, then." Raphael rested his right hand on her knee and brushed his left one down her thigh.

Jinho couldn't help himself. "Goodness, this looks rather seductive…! Wouldn't this send Michael up the wall?"

All other faces shifted gazes to the floor. Sara told him softly. "… We don't talk about him much. Ever since he became a Rabbit Hunter."

"… I see."

"I did need to ask you something, Raphael. Something I was wondering." Nema suddenly asked.

"… Yes?" Raphael looked up at her from his kneeling position.

"Do you… still talk to Michael at all?"

The Wind Angel looked down at the floor again. "… When he made that decision… I was very disappointed in him. I hadn't expected him to agree to that idea." He inspected her left leg and got rid of another scrape. "… I did try to call him, once. The number won't work, anymore. I suspect… they gave him a different phone. And I can't actually visit him for fear of being attacked. … I figure… if he needs to reach me, he knows my number. And I am willing to listen to him."

Nema absorbed all this information in silence. She could think of nothing to say in regards to that subject. "… Jinho?"

"Yes, my dear?" Jinho asked from his spot near her vanity.

"… How have you been?"

Jinho's black eyes blinked in mild surprise, not expecting anyone to ask of his well-being. He decided to be honest. "… I have been better, truth to tell."

Nema looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"Oh…" Jinho laughed nervously. "You are familiar with the Evils, and the kingdom of Gehenna, yes?"

"… Auntie Kurai was once Queen, there." Nema said softly. "Until she died giving birth to her only child."

"A daughter." Jinho mumbled. "The new Dragonmaster of Gehenna and Princess, as well. Her name is Lilith."

"A beautiful name."

"A name truly meant for her. She is quite a cruel girl." Jinho said quietly. "… I have been betrothed to her."

Nema's mouth lifted in a crooked smile. "And you're not fond of her."

"She is a child." Jinho allowed the disgust to fall from his lips.

"A foolish brat?"

"No, she is literally a child."

Several faces turned to him with wide eyes. "… She is actually of a suitable age for marriage; don't be fooled. In order to maintain her position as Dragonmaster she has taken to drinking potions that will reduce her physical age to the time just before she began turning into a lady. I have not seen her in her true form." Jinho tried shrugging it off, but it was obvious that it bothered him. "… She has no interest in anyone. She has written me off as a lecher even though she knows that this union wasn't my doing."

"…Why are you betrothed to her?"

"… I grew up in between Gehenna and Korea, so my name was one of many in a matchmaking ritual the elders of Gehenna resorted to on her 18th birthday, as she had not chosen a suitor for herself. I had… the supposed fortune of being chosen as I am her equal yet opposite match."

"… I'm sorry to hear your union isn't a happy one." Nema frowned thoughtfully. "… I have heard that you already have six wives of your own, though. I imagine at least they make you happy."

Jinho took off his top hat, playing with the brim and laughing nervously. "Yes, about that…"

Nema arched a pale brow up at him. "… Is that all a lie?"

"Oh, only a small one, really… considering the only ones to believe it are a few Demons that like to spread rumors, you, and Michael-sama. I blame the Demons for turning it into something much larger than it should have been."

"… But why would you lie about something like that?"

"… I suppose this is the point where I must make my apology." Jinho walked forth and bowed deeply. "The truth is I had been watching you and Michael-sama a day prior to my visit. I could not help but feel there was potential for a… how can I put this… union. Yes. I felt there was potential for a nice little union between the two of you." Jinho toyed with his top hat again. "I have a reputation for being quite the matchmaker myself… though my methods often involve trickery and jealousy. Michael-sama is an easily angered man, so I knew that some minor flirtations on my part and some properly fed lies would… give him the proper push, I suppose. I knew that the idea of a man taking interest in you for the purpose of adding you to a collection of brides would rile him up. He seemed particularly interested in making sure I did not regard you as a lowly bunny Rabbit… He held you in a position as a worthy equal, this was very obvious to me. So I knew that making him believe I wanted you to be one of many wives would stir up enough anger to make him become protective of you… to… treasure you, I suppose."

Nema stared down at Jinho with a soft frown. "… You set us up."

"I was unaware that Michael-sama would be so brash as to… engage in intimate affairs with you." Jinho said quietly. "Nor was I aware that you were under careful surveillance and would suffer as you have because of a simple game I wished to play." The vampire looked up at Nema with a sincere frown on his handsome face. "Nemaelle, I can't help but feel as if these recent events are my own fault. I am aware that this war has good motives, and for this I am happy. But as I visit you and realize that now you do not even wish to discuss Michael-sama, anymore… It is this pain that I must apologize for. I had only meant to cause a union. Not heartbreak."

The vampire felt her gentle hand on his cheek, and she bade him to stand, but as he slowly rose she wrapped her arms around his neck and told him, "I don't hold you at fault… I don't."

And Jinho smiled and returned the tender embrace. "Your ability to forgive is much stronger than I had assumed."

There was a knock on the door, and Nema allowed a tall man to step in. "Nema-sama," He spoke without letting her speak, "Nyssa is demanding on taking out our warriors and…"

"And she is allowed. Do as she says."

"…What…?" The I-Child stuttered before his Queen.

"Nyssa will be filling in for me today and I trust she will make wise decisions. You will treat her as you treat me."

"… But…" He swallowed the lump in his throat and frowned, then bowed. "…Very well."

Nema sighed once he had shut the door. "… There are few who trust Nyssa's judgment, these days. She fell into a slump… but I think it's safe to say she snapped out of it."

Raphael returned to mending Nema, brushing back the ivory hair that covered a scrape over her collarbone. "… Holy…! Well THAT'S not a minor wound!" Raphael pointed at the bite wound on Nema's neck. "Look at how red that is…! That doesn't hurt at all?"

"It stings, a little." Nema said quietly.

"… Looks like some kind of manic vampire bite…"

"Really? Let me see." Jinho seemed to take particular interest in the wound and stepped close to inspect it. "May I?" He asked Nema, who nodded. He took off one white glove and began pressing on the edges of the wound, pushing them out and staring intently. Raphael watched as a look of disgust fell over him. "… I'm offended. That's not a vampire bite, at all."

"It isn't?" Setsuna arched a brow.

"Of course not; look at it." Jinho pursed his lips into a pout and waved a hand over Nema's wound. "Not one vein of any decent size has been punctured. Plenty of torn flesh, no torn veins. Deep, but no significant damage." He slipped his glove back on and told Nema, "If a vampire bit you, he or she is a POOR excuse for one. Not that I would wish any harm on you, dear friend. I'm happy it's not a vampire bite." He sent Raphael a annoyed glance. "I would appreciate it if you brushed up on your knowledge of my race, sir. Just because you've caught sight of a neck wound does not mean that a vampire is at fault."

Raphael returned the annoyed glance and asked him. "What did this, then?" As though Nema would have no idea, herself.

"The wound is deepest along these two edges, here," Jinho pointed out the areas for Raphael to see. "No doubt it was someone with fangs. I suppose it COULD have been a vampire… but a very STUPID one, then." Jinho rolled his eyes, and then fought down a sly smirk. "… Of course, it could also be a particularly violent love bite."

It was at this moment that Nema waved aside the hands hovering over her wound. "Are you going to heal me or not?" She asked bitterly.

She refused to meet the eyes of any of her visitors, and finally Raphael brushed aside her hair again and pressed his hand over the wound. When he lifted it, there was no mark left. "… You're good to go." The Wind Angel said quietly, dipping his hands into the bowl of water and drying them on a soft square of cloth.

"… Thank you." She had been trying to ignore the pair of icy blue eyes piercing into her, and she could finally take no more, and met Raphael's gaze with a look of her own.

His eyes were questioning at first, but as he caught the tears lingering in her ruby eyes a new look came over them. He knew who bit her. She shook her head and let a fake yawn fall from her lips. He realized that she did not wish to speak of why Michael had ever been close enough to bite her, at least not while her parents and Jinho were in the room, so he let it slide, for now. "… Speaking of love bites, Doll is covered with them."

Nema arched a pale brow. "… Really?"

Sara giggled and smiled. "So it seems that all that pent-up tension between Katou and Doll has been finally released!"

"Katou has been telling me he'd like to share a room with Doll. He says it would be easier to keep his room clean, but he's not fooling anyone." Setsuna added.

Nema watched as Raphael sighed silently. "Well even they will be running into a little trouble, soon… I'm afraid it's partly my fault."

"What…?"

"Why do I feel like I'm the only one who's noticed Uriel's true feelings…?"

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"… Where is that key…?"

"You actually lost Doll's key?" Raphael asked boredly.

"I haven't lost it; I've just misplaced it…" Uriel muttered to himself. "… Would you help me find it?"

"I already know where it is. Or who has it, anyway."

The Earth Angel looked at his fellow Elemental with curious green eyes. "Really?" His voice flowed from him. "Who?"

"Apparently Doll collapsed again. Katou turned over the whole place looking for the key… I was the one who told him to try the library."

"… Oh. I see, then." Uriel said slowly, pulling up a chair and sitting in it. "Well… at least I have an idea of where it is."

Raphael cleared his throat. "… You realize that if neither you nor he found her, she would have been left overnight…? I was told she was in a private area only you and her knew of. If no one had found her until the next day –"

"I am aware that her spirit would have escaped her."

"… And that doesn't bother you?"

"Do not make your assumptions!" Uriel suddenly said harshly. After taking a few long breaths, he mumbled, "… I have been out of sorts lately."

"Why?" The Wind Angel asked plainly.

"… One could say that Doll's current… behaviors and… manner of dress are… unsettling."

"Is that what you call it?" Raphael asked with a semi-smirk. "She has been copying a vintage pinup model from Assiah."

"I am aware of this, yes."

"… She is trying to seduce you, you know."

Uriel coughed. "It is… I rather wish she would stop such behaviors."

"… Uriel?" Raphael looked out of the library window, through which light filtered through.

"Yes, Raphael?"

"… Have you ever considered that maybe it's time you began dating Doll?"

A long silence followed. "… I am afraid I have never… that is to say…"

"I'm not stupid. You felt a minor attraction to Doll's soul and THAT is why Doll exists. After all this time… I KNOW that you are still attracted to her."

"THERE IS ONLY ONE WOMAN I HAVE EVER ADMIRED!" The Earth Angel snapped, sending Raphael a particularly cruel glare.

"… Alexiel is not the one meant for you."

"Silence."

"She has been married to Lucifer and crowned his Queen for so long now… And never has there been word of anything negative between them. They are happy together. You know you can't separate that…"

"SILENCE!" Uriel's exceptionally tall frame came to a stand, towering over Raphael. "NOTHING MORE ABOUT THAT!"

"… Exactly. That is exactly what I mean. There is nothing more… about her. In regards to you."

"Enough!" Uriel hissed, his dark robes swirling around him as he turned and made a big show of looking for a book.

"… But there is Doll."

Uriel's shoulders drooped. "… There is no guarantee that she is the one for me."

"There never is with any relationship. That's something to risk." To Uriel's silence, he added, "… You can't wait forever, Uriel. Neither can she. … Just something for you to think about…"

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"… Of course, with my luck, I have to say these things prior to finding Doll bouncing around in some tiny maid dress she made, her neck covered in hickeys, telling me how Katou gave her some necklace." Raphael ran his hands down his face in anguish. "Now I am actually hoping that Uriel does NOT say anything to Doll…"

Sara frowned thoughtfully. "… He waited too long."

"It will be my fault if he decides to pluck up the courage and get burned for it…" Raphael said miserably.

Nema managed a weak laugh. "It's so ironic it's pathetic, really…"

Jinho asked her, "What do you mean?"

"… Just… this whole thing with love. I am fighting a war for the sake of love. Liberation, equality, freedom, call it what you will… in the end, I'm pushing the message the love is okay, and good, and the products of love deserve to be made. And then I look around me… see all the messy tangles and bleeding hearts and… I don't even have to look at anyone else if I don't want to… But everything I see in regards to love… paints love up as a picture of… sadness, and anger, and… evil. And the products of love are actually stems of hate."

No one could think of anything to say in response to that.

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Michael spat in frustration and kept stomping along. Nothing. He could find no information in regards to his Holy Blood… Everyone proved ignorant no matter how many times he hit them, and he had just finished off the fifth computer that decided to flash a "NO DATA" screen at him.

Why couldn't he find anything about it? This Holy Blood was part of some big, grand scheme of that terrible Angel, Cheriour…! HOW could there be no info on Holy Blood when the battle was in a FEW DAYS?

Had Cheriour already assumed that Michael should know nothing? The first time Michael had decided to access a computer, he thought he might be getting close to finding some info, until he found it to be locked behind an identification key and password. Michael had tried "Cheriour" for the key and "asshole" for the password. To his disappointment, nothing came up. So he gave the monitor a hefty kick and sliced the computer's tower into thirds with his sword. That made him feel better for about two minutes.

The Hunters steered clear from him, now. They weren't stupid, and knew that the lack of Michael's troops, as well as Michael's cloak, meant Michael had more or less stopped Rabbit Hunting. No, none of them knew why, and none of them were going to try asking. Michael was relieved that no one so much as dared to kick him off base, as well. Probably a very foolish move on their part, but hey, Michael wasn't going to complain if that meant that he would have more opportunities to find out where his Holy Blood was hiding.

Maybe they didn't care, because they knew he wouldn't find it.

Michael had tried to be civil about it, and hack computers and hunt for books and files. Then he took more threatening measures and "interviewed" people he felt would know something. Then he began turning over rooms. Most Hunters were gone, so they were in for surprise once they got back. Not that Michael cared. By this point, Michael was ready to burn the whole place down and just fucking HOPE the Holy Blood was in there, somewhere.

The Fire Angel decided to go for a walk. This… didn't take him very far. He was surprised to find there were battles going on all around his base… His first thought? Duel with Nema.

But he could not find her. Instead, he noticed that the Rabbit fighters were taking orders from a different woman. She was tall, a rather statuesque woman, with striking green eyes and an apparent fondness for electrocuting her victims. Actually… she seemed like a worthy opponent, but Michael was more interested in finding his Holy Blood than fighting her. So he left, before she could notice him.

He decided to try the Rabbit Fields. Maybe they were already set up… The Fire Angel laughed to himself. Wouldn't that be some kind of fucking STUPID move, setting up a bunch of bombs so early? If something ELSE set them off, there went their damn plan! Or… if someone STOLE them! Wouldn't that be something to die laughing about? Stealing his blood back and leaving them with nothing but a valley full of annoyed Rabbits, flying back out to kill their asses? And they'd deserve it, too, for being so damn stupid!

So he set out to steal them, sure that the Rabbit Hunters were stupid enough to do something like that. But there was nothing there.

So Michael cursed and swore in the vast fields full of dead Rabbits. He struck a tree with his great sword, growled out loud in frustration, and strapped the sword to his back. He took a few deep breaths. And then he set out for a walk. Yes, a walk in a field full of death. But after being a War Angel for so long, he was able to walk through all this death and look at it calmly.

Many of these bodies were dead long ago and no longer ceased to look very human, anymore. It was a disgusting sight, but to Michael, a good one. It meant that less Rabbit casualties were occurring, though the numbers were still hefty. Michael had to admit a bit of this was his own fault… but he was not going to kill another Rabbit, anymore. He didn't care if he hadn't met his quota… 201 souls left. Well, he didn't care. He wasn't hunting, anymore.

Suddenly Michael came upon a more sweetly scented area. He followed the smells… vanilla… lavender… magnolias… feminine scents. At last he came upon it.

It was a crooked, crude cross, upon which were hung the long-dead corpse of some little girl… Michael inspected the wounds… Whip lashings… knife wounds, too. She was not Wing Cut, and the small black wings drooped in their death, the feathers gone tattered and sparse. Her face was gone… He walked around the cross to find a single bullet-hole in the back of her head.

He finished his circle around the cross and looked down. The sweet smells were coming from an altar… no doubt something the I-Children had constructed. Several incense burners had been lit, hence the soft smells he had picked up on. At once he noticed a surprising thing among the flowers and letters left at the altar, but before he gave it any attention he read the words etched into a stone tablet laid against the foot of the cross.

ISOBELLE: THE DEATH THAT STARTED IT ALL…

"… Her death, among others, will not be in vain." He read out loud. So this girl's death had started the Rabbit's Revolution… He suddenly saw it very clearly. This must have been the body Nema had been more stirred by. But why? There were many dead children here… Michael looked up at the missing face and thought of the bullet hole in the back of her head. "… Mercy killing." Yes, that's what it must have been. Nema must have found her alive and suffering… and had spared her by shooting her in the back of the head. That sounded like something Nema would do. And no doubt after doing so, she must have been moved to start at war.

It was then that he turned his attention to the surprising thing he had noticed. He picked it up. It was a mini-crown, a white mini-crown. Accented in white lace, barely seen, with a pearlescent cross at the top. So much like the white one Nema had worn. She had worn it… the night that they had made love and ultimately damned their whole relationship. Yes, he was almost certain he'd damned it all because he had done too much and finished it all by saying, "God, I think I've fallen in love with her."

Michael frowned to himself. Why couldn't he have just kept quiet? What made it so hard to keep his hands off her? So Jinho had said he wanted to make Nema his seventh wife. He could've just beat him up a good deal and that would've been that.

But he didn't do that. He… had become greedy and jealous. Yes, he'd admit that readily, now. He was jealous that someone dared to take Nema away from him and greedy enough to claim her as his own, even if it was for just that one night.

… And it had been just that one night. There was nothing more about it but her hatred and his delicately made façade of cruelty. Michael looked to the left and noticed the glass samurai sword stabbed into the ground. He froze. No… it wasn't glass.

The Fire Angel moved forth to touch it, and examined the blade. It was a perfect, flawless blade. Then he took up the sword and made a few slashes and jabs. A beautiful, FUNCTIONAL sword. He suddenly stabbed it right in front of the altar. Not glass… it was an Angel Crystal sword, Nema's sword. A shard of the Nanatsusaya, and only Nema, Alexiel, and probably Setsuna could get away with touching it and not going mad. It was good Michael wasn't planning on taking the sword for himself. It was good he had properly identified it, already.

He crouched down and ran his and down the blade once more, allowing disappointment to wash over him. Nema had been here. She had lit this incense he had smelt, left behind her mini-crown and her sword. Why had she left her sword behind…?

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Nema had been right to go into hiding once she had heard that angry swearing. She regretted leaving her sword behind, but she had reacted in panic. Now she sat up in the boughs of the nearest tree and peered down at Michael. She had watched him circle Isobelle's body and crouch down to read the stone. For a moment she was afraid that he might destroy the altar. She told herself that if he did, she would rupture his very heart. She also knew that she was not that brave.

It didn't matter, anyway. He didn't seem intent on ruining the altar. She watched him pick up her mini-crown, examining it with a thoughtful frown. She almost called out to him when he began to toy with her sword, and then she sighed with relief when he put it back into the earth. She watched him run one hand down the blade, the other holding the ribbons that she used to tie her mini-crown onto her head. She saw a look on him that she hadn't expected to see. He looked… sad. The frown on his face wasn't deep, but it was there. His shoulders drooped.

Michael slipped his earring out of his ear and examine it, and then look at her sword. She realized he was wondering how her sword became her earring. It was all by her own will. If she wanted to, she could turn it into an earring again and have it fall to the ground, but that wouldn't have been a wise decision.

The Fire Angel sighed, dropping the earring onto the altar and cradling the mini-crown in both hands. She saw him whisper something, and then place the mini-crown onto the top of her sword. They both heard a crash, and Michael quickly left to go see what it was.

This was her chance.

Nema smoothly slipped out of the tree, rushed to the altar, and turned her sword back into her earring, slipping it back into the left ear. She placed her mini-crown on the center of the altar, for she had meant to leave this behind as a sign that she had been there.

She looked over her shoulder. She couldn't see or hear him. So she lingered for a short while more, picking up the forgotten earring. It was silver… Unlike most cross earrings, the chain that extended from the fish hook end attached to the middle of the cross, not the very top. She had never noticed that before… but then, she hadn't had many opportunities to look at his earring.

Nema felt the familiar wetness on her face and cursed herself for being so pathetic. She allowed herself to press a kiss to the cold silver of his cross, and then she laid the earring neatly before her crown. And then she left.

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"… I'm sorry…" He whispered to no one. He whispered it to her, but she was no where near him. Only her mini-crown and her sword had heard, and they could not respond for her.

A loud crash startled him. For crying out loud… was there going to be a battle here, too? He went to check.

No, nothing. A poorly-planted cross had fallen over, its victim now lying there, staring at the sky. Michael sighed and returned to the altar slowly.

He froze.

Her sword as gone! Michael sprinted forth and saw the white mini-crown, suddenly laid neatly at the center of the altar. And just before it, his earring, laid as neatly as if it were for sale.

God…

He'd missed Nema.

AGAIN!

Wasn't that some kind of fucking luck, for him? Maybe he would've picked a fight if he saw her. But maybe he would've told her about Cheriour's plans with his Holy Blood! Or maybe… maybe he would've kissed her and told her loved her and stole her away! Maybe he'd even fucking beg for forgiveness! It wasn't like Michael cared right now! All he cared about is that he had JUST missed Nema! AGAIN!

He slipped his earring back into his ear… God, he could've sworn it felt warmer… now that she had touched it…

In anguish, the Fire Angel slammed his fist into the ground. "NEMAAAA! GOD DAMMIT!" He screamed and screamed. It did nothing to quell his anger, and he left in a bigger rage than he had already started out with. So close! So fucking close…!

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Nema dropped down from the tree for a second time and stood before the altar, watching from a safe distance as Michael stomped away, occasionally yelling a few loud curse words, always taking the Lord's name in vain.

Nema shook her head in a futile attempt to be rid of sadness… and returned home.


	31. Chapter 31

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty One_

By: Brenli

Nyssa heard the soft knock on her door and bade the visitor to step in. She felt mixed feelings as Nema entered. This awkwardness around the leader of the Revolution was something she rather wished she did not feel, but it was there. For Nema had ruined Rujiel. Even if it was truly an accident, and Nyssa would grudgingly admit that must have been the truth… the point was Nema had still ruined Rujiel. "… Where's your crown?" She asked plainly, returning to examining her sword.

"I left it at Isobelle's shrine." Nema returned in the same tone. She stood at the door, obviously not feeling welcome. "… I came for a report on today's activities… Raphael had a more to fix up than usual."

"Yes, well while we were trying to find an alternate route to the bases we kept meeting up with what was pretty much a WALL of defense…" Nyssa couldn't help but smile a little. "They're afraid of us, that's for sure. But that means that the only way to them if you want to attack is through the Rabbit Fields. There's no stopping that."

"… So should I attack them, then?"

"You're asking me?" Nyssa looked to her from the corner of her eye.

"I have an opportunity to ask for a professional opinion from someone other than Lucifer… who is always fine with my maneuvers." The Queen said quietly.

"… You trust my judgment?"

"I am one of the few that always have."

Nyssa laid her sword across her lap and shut her eyes. "… All the time away from White Wings made me forget how merciless the Hunters are."

Nema chortled. "Oh, so you've lost your sympathy for them, suddenly?"

"The Hunters. I've lost sympathy for them." Nyssa reopened her bright green orbs and told her honestly, "… If there was ever a more promising time for attack, it would be now. Head to the Fields and battle them there. We would probably break through quickly and be able to take over the base Michael resides in."

Nema said nothing. She only nodded and stepped further into Nyssa's room, waving a hand at her sword. "May I?"

"If you want…" She held up the sword and allowed Nema to take it and wave it side to side in swift, fluid motions. The blade was light, but by no means was the blade weak. "… It was awarded to me by Raziel-sama."

Nema blinked down at her. "Seriously?"

Nyssa nodded. "You hold in your hands the Qarnier. He had awarded it to me at the time that my rebellion began… as a sign that he was truly on our side. It was regarded as a symbol of hope… if you read the blade."

Nema did. One side had the word "victory" etched into the metal, and on the other side, "equality."

"It's been a long time since the Qarnier tasted any blood… until today." Nyssa said quietly.

"This is a beautiful sword…" Nema mused. "Raziel gave this to you?"

"Yes… though he does nothing to aid us in our attempts for freedom, I know he is on our side… because of this." Nyssa held out her hand and took back the sword. "I'm glad you like it… in the event that I die, I want you to have it."

Nema's ruby eyes squinted in confusion. "… Are you planning some lone wolf mission I ought to know about?"

"You will know about it, right now." Nyssa stood and held the sword before her. "Because I swear upon this sword that I will kill Cheriour…! For all the evil he has done to everyone…! To me…! And to Rujiel…"

"I thought that you still loved the man he once was…"

"I refuse to love him, now." Nyssa said firmly. "He is no longer a man worth having hope in."

"… And when do you plan on carrying out this mission?"

"On the day you launch your attack, if you don't mind."

Nema smiled a little. "I don't mind at all, you know that."

Nyssa sat back down on her bed and smiled back. "When I drive this blade through Cheriour's heart, I will tell him that it was in the name of the better man. Rujiel. I will say his name so clearly and slowly that it'll haunt him forever in whatever afterlife he endures."

Nema allowed a quiet sigh to escape her lips and sat at the foot of Nyssa's bed. "Rujiel told me to take care of Lilliel, before he changed…"

"He wasn't angry toward you…?"

"I don't think there was any time for him to spend damning me. Though that might have been on his mind." Nema paused. "He told me to tell you…he loved you."

She watched as Nyssa's body tensed and sat up. "… That's just like him…" The green-eyed I-Child said in soft yet choked up tones, "Hopelessly devoted like that…" She quickly wiped away two stray tears. "… I should have chosen him."

Suddenly, she stood before Nema. "Let me show you something." With that, she lifted her black shirt to expose an elaborate tattoo… a rose lacking leaves. A pair of detailed black wings took their place. "Rujiel took me to a tattoo parlor on Assiah… after Cheriour took out my family, and I let my rebellion fall apart…"

A small and sad smile curled Nema's lips. "That was sweet of him…"

"What was sweet was what he told me… He showed me the drawing he'd made…" Nyssa brushed a hand over her tattoo, "And he said to me, 'Most guys give girls flowers when they get upset… but they die eventually. I figure that this way… the flower I give you will never die.' … I was too heartbroken to fathom being with anyone, then… but I think… I should have chosen him then, at the latest." Nyssa frowned and smoothed her shirt back down over her white belly. "If there was ever a chance to see Rujiel again… do you think he'd forgive me?"

"… I do." Nema returned the smile that suddenly crossed Nyssa's lips. It was then that Nema noticed some black material sitting on Nyssa's vanity. "… What is that?"

Nyssa went over to pick it up and show it to her. "A shirt. I haven't worn this in years… I was checking to see if it would still fit."

Nema's ruby eyes widened just the slightest bit. "It's beautiful…" She cooed. Truly, it was a gorgeous top. Leather, like Nyssa's pants. A crop top, lacing up the back and up one inch of the bust.

"You really think so?" Nyssa smiled crookedly. "I didn't think leather was really your thing."

"It is on some days." Nema said haughtily, suddenly forgetting the awkwardness she had felt around Nyssa. "It's LOVELY. Shame I have a small chest. I would STEAL that from you, if it fit me."

"Well it's a good thing it DOESN'T fit you, then!"

"Please try it on…?" Nema begged lightly. "It'll probably still fit you…!"

Nyssa arched a pale brow. "Okay, fine." Nyssa turned and lifted off her black shirt, slipping on the leather one with ease. Then she turned back around. "Looks good?"

"Fits you perfectly…!" Nema grinned, coming to stand by her. "If only Rujiel could see you now…"

And in spite of Nyssa's attempts at swallowing down her emotions, a blush spread over her face. "Oh no. Would he like it too much?"

"He'd like it just enough!" Nema said with a firm nod.

"… So are you already over his death?" Nyssa suddenly threw the question out there.

Nema paused, but looked at Nyssa fully. "I am the cause of his… 'death,' if that's what it really is. I will never get over that. But… I believe that Rujiel did want me to be happy. For you to be happy. For Lilliel and everyone else, as well. For that… I will do my best to carry on… After all… I have a whole race of people to liberate." She smiled crookedly. "Which reminds me… I wanted to speak with you about Raziel."

Nyssa arched a pale brow. "… What do you wish to know…?"

"You say he is truly on our side, but he doesn't aid us in any way…"

"But you should notice that –"

"That he fails to aid Cheriour in his side of the war. I've looked into it." Nema finished for Nyssa. "… You say he gave you the Qarnier… do you still keep in contact with him?"

"He contacts no one, really… except for counsel elders, I suppose. I wouldn't know… he hasn't contacted me since my rebellion…"

Nema nodded, allowing Nyssa to stop speaking, for the end of her rebellion seemed to be a touchy subject, indeed. "… I want to talk to him."

Nyssa's eyes widened. "DO you? Good luck with that?"

"Why 'good luck'? I've done a fair amount of research, thank you. Plenty of sleepless nights. I know that there are still Anima Mundi members that serve as his personal security at all times."

"They are all White Wings."

"But Anima Mundi members, nonetheless, which means that at least at one point, they believed in our rights. Right?"

"Right." Nyssa admitted grudgingly.

"Now, from here I make speculations… but, say that OUR former Anima Mundi members could make arrangements with HIS Anima Mundi members and… schedule a special visit just for me. With you, too, if you'd like." Nema drummed her snowy-colored fingers together.

Nyssa's eyes widened. "What are you going to do then? Kill him?"

"No! What gave you that idea?" Nema cried.

"What else would you do with the HEAD of Heaven? After all, his lack of participation is what gave us any reason AT ALL to defend ourselves…"

"Well I'm NOT going to assassinate him. But I would like to have a nice, civil conversation with him ABOUT his lack-of-participation."

Nyssa couldn't help but let her cynicism show through. "You won't get far. He is an Aion, just like you and I."

Nema's ruby eyes narrowed. "If he tries to get violent I will threaten to exercise my power on him, much like I did you."

"And if you dared to try, he would make you self-combust." Nyssa met Nema's questioning look with an all-knowing one. "He can control your body. If he feels threatened you bet your ass he'll make you kill yourself."

"… Well who said I would come in a threatening manner?" Nema shrugged after a time. "Like I said, I want a nice, civil conversation."

"… And what will you get out of him? His sudden aid?"

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Nema smiled. "… Actually I was seeking him to step in for the sole purpose of calling an end to the fighting."

"An end?"

"I would rather call up some kind of debate among the counsel."

"You won't get away with that now that you've come so far… They'll see you as a criminal."

"Then they can treat me like one… if they treat Cheriour like one, too."

"Then that's like finding out who's guilty."

"Yes… like a trial."

Nyssa was silent for a short moment, thinking over Nema's idea. "… So that's a bit like upholding your parent's request for a truce."

"That's partially why I have considered this little plan… It's also that I'm a little tired of bloodshed." Nema sighed. "I want to get this all over and done with the fastest way. A trial would be faster than a war."

"And then what are you going to do?"

"… I don't know." Nema turned and began to leave. "… Sew. That's all I have left for me."

"And let's say you get your trial and you lose." Nyssa called out once Nema reached the doorway.

And Nema turned with a grin and said, "Then they'll have forced me to be the violent Queen for a bit longer, haven't they?"

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"You wanted to speak with me, Uriel?" Doll chirped.

The Earth Angel wondered why she no longer addressed him as Uriel-sama… he tried to assume that this was a good thing. "Yes, there was a small matter I wished to speak with you about." Was it really a small thing? Uriel wasn't sure. For such a small thing he was certainly nervous. Something kept telling him he was doing something wrong. But was he, really?

The room was dark, with little light to filter in through the windows of Uriel's most favorite library on this night. A candle that Doll held in an antique candleholder allowed enough light for him to see the silhouette of her as he sat in his chair, not facing her. Her shadow made him swallow the lump in his scarred throat. There were no excess lines detailing a dress. What could she be wearing now?

"For that matter, before we begin, I had a request for you."

"… Did you?"

"If it's not too much trouble…"

"Not at all, Doll." Uriel felt a small smile light his features. "You have never asked a favor of me, before…"

"I guess that changes now, doesn't it?" Doll laughed. "… I wanted to change rooms."

"Oh? Why?"

"It's a lonely room. I don't like living alone."

Uriel was forced to swallow another lump in his throat. Well, wasn't that forward of her. "… I am sorry I've kept you unhappy, Doll."

Doll giggled. "I'm not unhappy, anymore, Uriel."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I'd like to request permission to move in with Katou, Uriel."

… What? "… Move in with Katou, Doll?"

"Yes…!" She sounded far too happy for Uriel's comfort. "I know we didn't seem close at first, did we?"

"Hardly…"

"It has changed now, Uriel…! I think… I might even be in love with him! Isn't that wonderful?"

"…Very."

Doll bubbled over in giggles. "He's actually a very nice person, you know… Still a pig, but he's got a good heart! He has kissed me a whole lot!"

"Doll." Uriel said quickly. "That's hardly proper talk… sharing intimate details so openly."

Doll finally paused. "… Why do you sound so cold, Uriel? I would like to show you something. Please turn around?"

It took more strength than the Earth Angel would like to admit, facing Doll. She stood before him in her gray capris and white top tied together between her breasts, her white high heels clacking against the ground as she hopped in excitement. She rushed forth and leaned toward him, holding out a silver pendant on a silver chain… To Uriel's shame, his gaze had been stuck on the vast number of purple marks on Doll's neck. One was running along her collarbone… this alone was far too low for Uriel's comfort. After his green eyes blinked, he focused on the pendant she held out to him. It was two silver pistols, crossed together in a perfect X, a single rose laid in front of them. Elaborately made, but a bit large. It was a man's necklace, then.

"The night that Katou first kissed me, he gave this to me. He won't admit this to anyone, but he told me that he hoped we could be together, and if you did not permit it, then at least he wanted me to think of him when I saw this. I told him he was being silly. You have always been a kind and considerate man, Uriel. I told him you would surely let me live with him." Doll beamed innocently.

If there was ever a flaw in Doll, it was that her rebirth had nearly completely wiped away her sense of right and wrong. She was as innocent as an infant, almost blissfully so, but right now… it truly hurt Uriel in a way he had ever known. "… He must treat you well." He said darkly.

"There's not a doubt in my mind he'll treat me like the very best!" Doll smiled.

Uriel frowned. "… It's truly what you want."

"I have never wanted anything more than being with Katou!" Doll giggled. "I realize that now!"

He sighed. He never, ever should have listened to Raphael. It was easy for Raphael to tell him, 'date her,' because he had never had to deal with the pain that came from a love unreturned. He had been forever admired by all sorts of women, able to commit sin with them, and when Raphael finally cleaned up his act and was done lusting after women, he'd had a woman already lined up for him to hold and to truly love. Now, Raphael was only a few steps away from becoming a father, a family man, with the one woman he really loved. And doubtless, he would spend his life with this woman and this child, and maybe more they would make together, and that was Raphael's plotted destiny. To feel love. To never fully understand… heartbreak.

No, he should never have listened to Raphael. Raphael made Uriel believe he actually had an open shot. There was no such thing. He was too late.

He had waited too long, and Doll… she couldn't wait forever. "… Go to him. I won't stop you." Uriel said darkly.

"OH I KNEW YOU WOULD SAY YES!" Doll laughed merrily and threw her arms around Uriel's tan neck, embracing him in a strong hug.

"But…"

Doll pulled back and frowned thoughtfully as she looked down at Uriel, not reading into the sudden coldness in his green eyes and the frown curling his firm mouth.

"He must take your key, then. I will not be responsible for winding you back up, anymore. He will be the one to unzip your dress. Not I."

The sharp frozen voice that came from around him pierced into Doll with alarm. "… Uriel…?"

"And I won't have you bouncing around with those… marks on your neck. If you're going to have fun, you won't be announcing it with love bites. Cover those up. Whether you use clothing or makeup doesn't matter."

Doll frowned down at him, but nodded slowly.

"I'm glad we've come to an agreement, then." Uriel finished coldly.

"… What is it you wished to speak with me about, Uriel…?" Doll asked quietly.

Uriel stared long and hard at her. He wondered if he should say the truth or not. He wondered how cruel he could be.

But then a piercing scream began. It grew louder and louder until Raphael threw open the library doors. "DOLL! PLEASE FOLLOW ME!"

"RAPHAEL!" Barbiel cried, clinging to him.

Doll gasped and quickly ran to join him. "Nearest bed is my old room! Quickly! This way!"

And just like that, she was gone. And her room wasn't even her room, anymore. It was her OLD room, and she hadn't even really moved out, yet.

"Uriel! Barbiel's going to have her baby! Come on!" Setsuna called to him in urgency, as Uriel watched Sara appear behind him. And from behind both of them, the blonde head of Katou ran by, a cigarette stuck in his mouth as he ran.

No one seemed to notice Uriel's sudden drop in mood. But he figured… that was fine. Let them all deal with Barbiel as she brought forth new life. Let them focus on that. And while he watched with them, he'd fall away inside himself.

He would never long for the love of a woman, or even believe that he had a chance to feel the love of a woman, ever again.

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Michael never wanted to fall in love ever again! EVER! What had he gained from any of this? Now he was walking hypocrite! Full of contradictions and he hated himself for it!

For instance… HER. He was fucking ANGRY at her. A part of him was lost in such a rage he rather believed he'd like to burn her to a crisp. LET that fucking Holy Blood burn her to ashes! What had she done? Here's what she did! SHE MADE HIM FALL IN LOVE WITH HER! Yes, she MADE him! He wasn't sure how, but she MADE him fall for her, just like in the fucking romance novels! AND SHE SHOULD FUCKING DIE FOR EVER DOING THIS TO HIM! But here's the catch, 'cause there's ALWAYS a fucking catch. If he heard from Rabbit Hunters of her death, and read about it in the papers, and was invited to parties, he'd kill them all. Oh, he'd kill them all. Why? Because they were celebrating HER death! HER DEATH! And damn them all to Hell for wanting her dead! Because she was far too good to die! She was strong in spirit and a fucking glorious fighter… and a fucking gorgeous girl. His girl. HIS GIRL! And no girl of his was going to die! Because he LOVED her, he fucking LOVED her, ADORED her, damn near WORSHIPPED her. He never dropped to his knees and prayed to her, or offered sacrifices, but he just nearly fucking worshipped that girl.

So did Michael want her alive or dead? He couldn't very well have both, now could he?

Michael breathed in ragged breaths and sent another wave of fire at one of his walls. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Why? Because when he had gotten back from his walk in the Rabbit Fields, he had received a rude knock over the head. And when he came to, where the fuck was he? In a room coated in Angel Crystal. And what sin had he commited THIS time? None, but he found out soon enough just why they stuck him in there. Word had spread that Nema and her troops were going to try and take over one of Cheriour's bases. Right through the Rabbit Fields. And here was where it truly became a nightmare: Cheriour was going to take advantage of this. They were going to set up for the Holy Blood battle TONIGHT, in preparation for Nema's advancement TOMORROW. TOMORROW! And because "his ambiguous state in the face of this battle," as put so nicely in terms from a head Hunter, they thought it best that he "be contained until the greatest and final Holy Blood casuality had been counted."

In other words, he wasn't getting out until they knew for sure that Nema had died because of his Holy Blood.

WELL DAMN THEM ALL! LET HER DIE!

…

OH GOD, DON'T LET HER DIE!

Michael beat his fists against the Angel Crystal. He screamed and kicked and hit and screamed some more. They'd even had the cruelty to construct these sheets of indestructible material around the walls of the room he'd spend his life in, as a Rabbit Hunter. Imagine his shock and horror when the windows and the door wouldn't open, and his rage when the silky voice of that head Rabbit Hunter spoke to him through the speaker set up in his room. At first he sat back and laughed. After an hour he got nervous. After another hour he set most things on fire. After two more hours, he became the wreck he was now, beating everything to absolutely no avail, and getting all the more angry for it. He let out another loud yell, angry and anguished. And then he collapsed against an Angel Crystal wall. And then he cried.

He cried and he didn't fucking care. It wasn't like any of THEM cared whether he cried or not. They were busy ensuring the death of the girl Michael loved. LOVED.

This is what love can do strong, cruel, supposedly heartless man. In the worst situations… love can completely ruin a man and bring him to nothing but tears.

This is why Michael never wanted to fall in love ever again.

The Fire Angel allowed the fatigue to fall over him, and he slouched against the wall. Never, ever again would he fall in love. Nema was going to die. And he was never going to love anyone, ever, EVER again. It wasn't worth it. Loving Nema hurt enough, as it was.

Michael saw the glimmer of something from the corner of his eye and looked at it lazily. A phone.

Then he saw it as more than a phone. It was an opportunity.

He had one last chance to save her. He couldn't do it himself…

Raphael could.

He wondered what Raphael would do once he called. Would he listen and save the day, or would he write Michael off as a traitor and not even give him the time to speak? That was something Michael would have to risk. For her sake, and her life.

He picked up the phone. He almost forgot Raphael's number, having not called it in so long… He dialed the number and waited and waited.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

Michael choked on frightened, restless, angry tears.

Four rings. Five.

"Hey, you've reached Raphael's business phone –"

Dammit, he'd dialed the wrong number! It was the same cell phone but a different fucking voicemail!

"Please leave your name and number and I will get back to you. If this is an emergency…"

YES, THIS WAS A FUCKING EMERGENCY!

"- please leave your reason for calling and try again." _Beeeeep._

God… he couldn't fucking believe it. He didn't even pick up.

Well, there was nothing he could do but leave a message. Michael tried to swallow down most of his tears and began to speak…

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"Congratulations…" Doll cooed happily to an exhausted Barbiel.

"… It's a boy…" It was hard to say whether Raphael sounded a bit tired himself, in shock, or happy. It was more likely all three. He looked down at his little son, skin as white as the cloth wrapped around his freshly-cleaned form. His son hadn't cried open his birth, but they knew him to be alive because he laughed a great deal. And as his son blinked a blue left eye and a red right eye up at his father, Raphael almost wanted to cry. "Honey, look at him…" Raphael moved forth and allowed Barbiel to take her son in her arms.

Barbiel did not even bother to blink back her tears. "You are beautiful… my son…!" She sighed as her baby laughed up at her. "… Abel."

Raphael responded with a proud, firm nod. "Abel."

"I hate to disrupt this moment." A voice flowed smoothly from the back of the room. "Your phone rang a while ago, Raphael." To Uriel's distaste, Doll rushed forth and took the phone from Uriel's grasp.

"I'll let it play for you! You stay by Abel!" And she went through the motions to answering Raphael's voicemail.

A very torn and distraught voice began to speak. "Raphael… it's me…"

The Wind Angel's eyes widened instantly. "Michael…!"

"Barbiel should be due, right? … Congrats." The Fire Angel said this with a slight laugh to his voice, one that showed he was happy for Raphael. But this was quickly lost as they heard him sniffle. Yes… sniffle. "I have… bad news. Tomorrow… Nema…" He paused to breathe. "She wants to take her fighters into the Rabbit Fields…" Suddenly, he exploded in frantic speech, slurring with tears. "IT'S A TRAP! Cheriour's going to kill them all!" They listened to a shuffling noise and a distant cry of, "Oh, God…!" And then he came back with a desperate, "I know you wanna be with Barbiel, but please…! I'm trapped…! You gotta make 'em stop!" Michael was so loud that the phone crackled from the volume. There was a long pause, but they heard Michael breathe, sniffle, breathe, sniffle. He came back and pleaded, "… Save her… I…" He paused again. Raphael could have sworn Michael was barely fighting down a real sob. "… I still love her, Raphael. I never… never stopped." Several faces frowned as they listened to this and absorbed it. Abel cooed and looked around at the suddenly gloomy faces. "I hope… we can talk again. I need help… I… I really fucked up; I… I don't know what to do." There was another shuffling sound. They came to realize this was Michael putting the phone down and allowing himself the relief of sobbing a little. When he came back, all he said was, in his incredibly lost, pleading, sad tone, "I still love her, Raphael."

And then he hung up. He left no number, just this torn and saddening plea.

Abel began to cry, feeding off the sudden unhappiness in the room. Barbiel and Raphael were quick to tend to their newborn son, but not a soul could shake the words Michael had given them.

Nema was walking right into a trap he could not save her from. In desperation, he sought the aid of Raphael. But most of all…

He still loved her.

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AUTHORESS NOTE: Just to make sure we get this all clear, I DO happen to like Uriel. In SPITE of the pain I am subjecting him to. (Even though I DO still like Katou X Doll). I suppose, if one MUST know, I am subjecting Uriel to this pain for the sake of Impy's sequel.

… Yes, I said 'sequel.'

It's going to be a collaboration with my dear friend and round-eyed sister, AmetrineButterfly, otherwise known to me as Ametriney. And I suppose that's all you need to know about that, for now.

Lastly… yay for the birth of Abel! Did you all even remember Barbiel was pregnant until I mentioned it in the last chapter? Well? Didya?


	32. Chapter 32

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty Two_

By: Brenli

Raphael bounced Abel in his strong arms, listening to his son's strong, loud laugh. "… I have to go."

Barbiel still lay in Doll's bed, a small frown curving her mouth. "Will you go to him, or her?" The option was open, now. Raphael now had reason to believe that Michael would not betray them.

"I'm going to try going to him. Nema won't believe she's in trouble if I can't tell her just what trap she's walking into, but Michael knows this information…" The Wind Angel reluctantly handed the boy back to Barbiel, kissing her cheek and Abel's forehead. "But I will be back soon, I promise."

"Be safe." Barbiel pleaded with him.

"I will." Raphael was quick to reply. "It'll be like… just a trip to see an old friend. I'll be back before you know it."

So he had promised the mother of his beautiful son. And as he had snuck past the Rabbit Fields, he had been dismayed to see there would be less time than he thought. Cheriour and his Rabbit Hunters were all lined up, out in the open, black cloaks proudly flowing around them. It must he truly been a great trap if they felt no need to even hide… But he could find nothing different about the surroundings.

So they were already set up, then… He'd have to make this quick.

Raphael was relieved to notice that there wasn't so much as one Rabbit Hunter in Michael's base… at least, he hadn't had the trouble of running into one. It didn't take much effort to find Michael's room, for it was safe to say it was probably the one locked with a code to break.

It was obvious that Cheriour had gotten too confident in himself. The code was 777, the first number that popped into Raphael's head. And the Wind Angel listened to the strange shifting sounds inside, as though Michael must have been stuck behind multiple walls.

The sounds stopped. Raphael opened the door. "STOP! IT'S ME!"

The large blade of Michael's fire sword stopped an inch away from Raphael's head.

"… What happened to you…?" He couldn't help but ask the War Angel before him. Was Michael aware that he looked different? He was a lot paler, now. His eyes were tired and rimmed in tender red lids. Raphael was able to catch the barely-there scars on Michael's arm, so perfectly mirroring Nema's.

Michael quickly strapped the sword to his back and rushed out of the room. "No time for that, now!" He said hurriedly. "Are they already there?"

Raphael had no choice but to run after his friend. "Who?"

"Nema?" Michael breathed. The name itself seemed painful as it flowed from his frowning lips.

"Nema and her warriors have yet to be there. Cheriour and his men are already there."

"Good, we can still warn them."

"Michael… What is this trap you were talking about?"

"Cheriour had fun with my blood. He made bombs out of it. He's going to kill them all…! There, is that enough information for you?" Michael rushed on.

"… Bombs?"

"Look, it's too many questions, okay?"

"But bombs made out of blood?" Raphael arched a golden brow.

"DO YOU FUCKING TRUST ME OR NOT?" Michael turned and hissed at the Wind Angel. "… Or is that a stupid question?" He finished angrily.

"I trust you, Michael!" Raphael held up his hands in a helpless gesture. "… I've missed you, you know. So has she."

That made Michael falter. "… We have to save them all. Each and every one. She won't miss me anymore, if so much as one is lost to my blood. I know that. She'll never love me again, if I can't fix this." And with that, the War Angel spread his broad, white wings and soared off into the sky, Raphael right beside him.

"Where are we off to?"

"Nema first!" Michael said firmly. "Fuck Cheriour and his men. My troops pulled out a while ago. So they can all go die."

Raphael began flapping his strong wings more swiftly. Michael was speeding away from him with an urgency Raphael hadn't seen on him, before. "It's early. They might still be asleep, Michael."

"Don't care!" Michael's voice slurred with the stress of this speedy flying and general worry.

"… Michael…"

"What?" He snapped.

Raphael ignored the nervousness that radiated from Michael. "Last night… my son was born."

"… A son, eh?"

Raphael found it in himself to smile. "His name is Abel. When this is over, I want you to see him. You and Nema."

There was a long pause. "… Me and Nema." He seemed to be lingering on the idea of mentioning them both as a duo. It made sense, to Raphael. After spending so much time regarding her as the enemy… this new idea must have been almost too refreshing. It seemed to soften Michael's voice enough, anyway.

They both touched the ground and proceeded to march up to the large building that served as Nema's above-ground fortress. "I believe that she still loves you, Michael."

He didn't outright deny it, which told Raphael that somehow, Michael had already known that. Instead he said this, "… I'll never figure out how or why. She hates me enough, just so you know. It's not… ALL fucking roses." With that he held his hands up before the guard. "Let me talk to your Queen."

"That I can't do." The male I-Child stammered before the angry White Wing before him.

And suddenly Michael exploded. "AND WHY THE FUCK NOT?"

"She's already gone…!"

"BULLSHIT! WE NEVER SAW HER!"

Raphael's icy blue eyes widened with understanding. "Underground."

Michael spun and arched a red brow at the Wind Angel. "They still go underground?"

"They weren't sure if they would be ambushed. Somehow, your type never liked going underground. So they took advantage of their tunnels." A small voice said below the raging War Angel. He looked down to see a young girl, an I-Child with a pink and red lolita dress and white ringlets pulled up into pigtails. Lo and behold, she wore a red mini-crown on her little head.

Michael's blue-green eyes narrowed. "Have someone take us to her."

"Can we trust you, Rabbit Hunter?" Lilliel's pink eyes squinted up at him.

And Raphael knelt before the little girl. "You can trust him. I do."

Lilliel's eyes widened and took another look up at Michael, who was trying desperately to bite back angry curses at the lack of faith she held in him. "… Fine, this way."

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"Why do you keep looking backwards, Nema?" Nyssa arched a brow down at the short Queen.

"You know Lilliel was begging like mad to come with us. I keep getting the feeling that she's just behind me." Nema mumbled under her breath, her hand resting on the empty sheath attatched to her hip. She admired the Qarnier for the second time and looked forward, down in the hills and valleys of the Rabbit Fields, and the long, thick, dark line of Rabbit Hunters on the other side. "… Look at that, Nyssa. They were expecting us."

Nyssa swore silently. "Somehow they must've caught wind of our plans."

"Too late now." Nema handed the Qarnier back to Nyssa, took off her earring and let it transform into her Angel Crystal sword, finally slipping it into her sheath as she and Nyssa stood at the head of her most favored fighters. Simply because they were her favored fighters did not mean that the others lacked skill, but she had made sure that for their first truly offensive move, she chose the most agile and quick-thinking I-Children. There were 500 or so with her, each standing firm and ready at her command. "We'll press on. If we don't, they will hunt us down."

"Again."

"I'm getting tired of being hunted, aren't you?"

"Hell yeah." Nyssa said smugly.

A corner of Nema's mouth lifted in a smirk. "… I believe this is the first battle not involving guerilla war tactics, isn't it?"

"It is… This is gonna be… different."

Nema nodded and unsheathed her sword, holding it up in the air, then bringing her pale arm across her equally pale chest, as though preparing for a long slice through her imaginary opponent. "… I like different." With that, she swept her Angel Crystal blade toward the vast enemy and let out a loud war cry, soon echoed by her many warriors. And they each charged forth…

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"God dammit, God fucking dammit…!" Michael swore, scooping up Lilliel and flying onward with increasing desperation. "How long have we been in the dark and STILL no sign of them!"

"Hey, they travel fast! I don't know what else to tell ya! Just keep going ahead!" Lilliel whined and cling to Michael's neck.

Raphael beat his wings to keep up with Michael and watched his friend's heavy breathing and distraught face. He thought of telling Michael to calm down, but knew that this would do nothing for the fiery man.

"… Hey, why are you crying?" Lilliel's pale brows arched together as she looked up at the stressed War Angel.

Michael was going through so much Hell right now. Why hadn't they run into Nema by now? Where was she? Was she already there? Already fighting? Had the bombs gone off? WAS SHE DEAD? Michael's wings felt like they were ready to just fall off of their own accord, but he continued flapping them, each mighty sweep of his snowy feathers pushing him just that much closer to what he hoped would be Nema alive and well… and not Nema, dead in his own blood…

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"… That's interesting… This is all very interesting…" Cheriour said calmly, watching the bloodbath in the Rabbit Fields. "Look at all these deaths in a land full of dead people… somehow, that's funny to me."

"Cheriour-sama!" A blood-soaked Hunter ran up to him.

"Yes?"

"… It is… a slaughter!"

"Yes, yes, I see that clearly."

"WE ARE LOSING!"

That made Cheriour lose his icy smile. "… Is that so?"

"PLEASE JUST SET OFF THE BOMBS!" The Hunter begged. "It will be a mercy to us all!"

"I will decide when to push the little white button, thank you. Return to battle."

"Wh… but… Cheriour-sama! If you don't just end it now MANY of us will feel inclined to flee! They'll follow, and then what use will the Holy Blood b-?" The Hunter's plea stopped in his throat.

Cheriour watched boredly as the sword blade twisted in the Hunter's heart and moved up to escape through his shoulder. "It seems I am not the only one who believed you talked too much."

The corpse fell, and Nyssa appeared, her sword poised and ready.

Cheriour felt a strange sort of smile flood his face. "Why, hello…"

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"They haven't gone off…!" Michael breathed happily, setting Lilliel on the ground. "Okay, run on home, kid!"

"Michael, wait…!" Raphael felt a sweatdrop run down his brow. Well, one thing definitely hadn't changed about Michael. The man was still all for rushing into battle and bloodshed. After sighing he told Lilliel. "He's right. Go right back home, Lilliel. This isn't the place for you." And with that, he brandished the sword he had taken from Michael's base and entered the bloody fields.

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Nema found herself slicing her sword through as many as three Hunters in one swing. She used her powers for emergencies only, and had found she didn't need to use it often at all. Though the battle was intense and heated, with black cloaks and shining swords and black wings and white wings all mashed together in these hills and valleys, Nema could not help but notice that this battle was tilting in her favor. She was happy for this, but knew that the recognition of success did not mean she should go easy. She decided to blind herself to the fact that more blood poured out of Hunters than Hunted. She believed that SHE was the losing one, that she must keep pressing on, stabbing, swinging her Angel Crystal sword that almost appeared to be made of rubies instead as the blood of so many White Wings dripped from the indestructible blade. Yes, she fought like she would have if she were cornered: desperately and wildly. She was proud to say that each of her fighters fought in the same manner. It was, perhaps, this mentality that allowed them to win. They refused to acknowledge their success until their opponents were completely dead. Some didn't even laugh in celebration until long after they had cleaned off the blood and dressed any wounds. Yes, for now, they all viewed themselves as nothing more than victims… it was truly this belief that made them desperate enough to push on.

"NEMA!" A familiar voice cried.

She ducked into a crevice cut into a shallow hill and was surprised to see who followed her in. "Raphael!" Her ruby eyes widened.

"You need to get out of here, Nema!" Raphael's voice dripped with fear.

"YOU need to get out of here! Your wings are white! One of my warriors might kill you!" Nema snapped. Just as quickly, her eyes widened again and her sword almost slipped out of her hands. "… LILLIEL!"

"Ne-" Lilliel began. "… HEY! LET ME GO!"

"HOW DARE YOU COME HERE, LILLIEL! YOU COULD BE KILLED!" Nema scolded her. "I'M TAKING YOU HOME!" She ignored Lilliel's whine.

"Nema, wait! You need to pull out! This is a tr-" She was gone. "NEMA!" Raphael called. He looked out into the sea of wings white and black, mingling in blood. There was no way for finding her in this gorey mess… Well then, he hoped Michael would find her and persuade her in time.

Raphael sighed in frustration and rested his hand against the earthen wall, when he felt something much harder. He looked and found a little, dark box covered in wires leading in all sorts of directions.

He realized he was staring at one of the bombs Michael had been talking about.

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"… LILLIEL!" Nema called out and flew in panic. Lilliel had managed to squirm from her grasp and now, she couldn't find her…!

A thousand times Nema cursed that little girl. She loved her to death, but she was much too stubborn for her own good! Nema wondered if she had ever been that foolhardy…?

It was then that she caught the flash of something small flying toward a mass of Hunters. Lilliel! Did she WANT to hurt herself? Nema soared down to the group, her sword ready to cut each White Wing down, when she saw that one of the Hunters was Cheriour, and lost within the group of black cloaks was Nyssa!

Nema dived in, taking out one of the Hunters as he nearly took off Nyssa's head. In rage, Nema screamed and each torso of each Hunter ripped apart, falling about the two I-Children in bloody slabs of flesh and bone.

"… Why, Nemaelle. I see you've spared me." Cheriour smiled, his sword still shining and clean.

"You are Nyssa's kill, not mine." Nema snarled. But no other words were allowed as another wave of Rabbit Hunters descended upon the trio. Swords brandished against the two albino women. Immediately the two Rabbits fell into an understanding, and Nyssa clashed swords with Cheriour, while Nema both fought off the excess Rabbit Hunters and kept a keen eye open for Lilliel, who was now nowhere to be seen.

"It is pathetic that you don't just call off all your little White Wings fighters and have an HONORABLE fight with me, ASHRIEL!"

Cheriour said nothing, his blonde strands swinging before his eyes as he parried a blow to the head.

Nyssa's eyes flashed in anger, green lightning crackling around her sword. "… WHY WON'T YOU TALK, COWARD? DO YOU WANT A SILENT DEATH?"

This time, Cheriour awarded her with a quiet laugh. "… So, I am to die, today?"

Nyssa wound up getting tired of locking swords with his, so she tripped him, watching him fall to his side, the blonde bangs of his still covering his eyes. "By my hand… by the hand of your former love!"

"Oh? … Is that who you are…?" Cheriour laughed again, the same breathy, quiet laugh.

Nyssa's green eyes narrowed. "Don't play stupid…! You remember me just as well as I remember y-"

"LILLIEL!" Nema suddenly cried.

Nyssa's eyes quickly shifted to where Nema was looking. As many as ten Rabbit Hunters ran by, bayonets held high. Somehow, Lilliel managed to get her mini-crown caught on one of them, but the rest of her body remained untouched! And now… she had the incredible foolishness to chase after it! "… GO, NEMA!"

Nema quickly cut down another Hunter and sent Nyssa a quick glance.

"I'VE GOT THIS COVERED! GO!" Nyssa waved a quick hand, and Nema quickly nodded and left the mini-battle.

Nyssa felt a part of her heart drop, now that Nema was gone. Fighting alone with a big mass of Rabbit Hunters to make her mission difficult wasn't how she had envisioned this, but she'd keep going, keep fighting with every ounce of spirit inside her! Cheriour was back on his feet, but he wasn't going to take her down…! In fact, it seemed that Cheriour was hardly what one would call a good fighter! He was already breathing like he'd been fighting for hours!

At last! She had disarmed him! It had been fucking HARD with three Hunters swinging down on her at once, but she had dismembered them for it and now, here was her chance! She held the Qarnier up high, ready to deal him a deadly blow. "This is for –"

She paused.

… She fell. Her pale body suddenly collapsed against Cheriour. It disgusted her, the way Cheriour allowed her to remain against his chest, holding her there, his mouth locked in a thoughtful line. "My…"

"Oh dear. It looks like you've lost those wings of yours." Cheriour said coldly.

Nyssa sneered up at him. "… You have NO HEART…! I loved you once!"

"Oh? Did you?" That was all he said in his ever-icy tone.

Nyssa spat at Cheriour, fighting down the growling inside her with every ounce of being. "I swear… on Rujiel's death… You will die a PAINFUL death…!"

And then she could fight no more. In disgust at herself and at him, she fell and allowed the animalistic scream to take over and change her, and then she was no more.

"What are you doing, CHERIOUR-SAMAAAA!" A Hunter flailed as Cheriour pulled him in front, using him for a shield. And without another word, Cheriour fled, while the ghoul formally known as Nyssa descended upon warm and tender flesh.

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Nema froze. She had only looked over her shoulder once… Just like that… Nyssa was… "GHOUL!" Nema cried sharply. She rushed to the edge of battle and began yelling to the ears of her many warriors. "SEND NYSSA OFF TO HADES QUICKLY! LILLIEL IS MISSING! IF YOU FIND HER BRING HER HOME IMMEDIATELY! THAT'S AN ORDER! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"

There was no time for tears, though Nema did want to cry for Nyssa, whose mission had not been carried out. The circumstances were unfair. She was unable to strike enough when there were so many others to defend herself against… But Nema pressed on. Somehow, she knew Nyssa would have done the same if Nema had lost her wings…

"LILLIELLLL!" Nema screamed and sliced through a Rabbit Hunter blocking her path. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

And then Nema's eyes widened as she watched Cheriour fleeing from far off, pushing a little white button.

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Michael pushed another dead man off his bloodstained blade, looking over his shoulder with wide blue-green eyes, the pupils shrinking in fear.

The first set of bombs had gone off. He still hadn't found…

THERE SHE WAS!

Flying up with urgency and fear, there she was! He'd found her!

… What was she DOING?

The explosions continued in sets of two, then three. Sections of earth flew up, along with bodies both White Wing and Rabbit. Some alive, some dead. Some in the process of dying, the blood sticking to flesh in the form of half-frozen, red slop, burning into the tissue and muscle, turning things black and stiff as the debris that was flung into the sky. The War Angel made out the form of a girl…That little girl! And Nema was going after her!

Michael beat his white wings against the wind and flew after her with a desperation he had never known. He watched as Lilliel's little hand, coated in the Holy Blood, reached for Nema's own outstretched fingers. No good. Lilliel was nearly COATED in Holy Blood. She wouldn't last. But Nema pressed on… her fingers just barely reaching her…

And then the distance between them grew wider and wider. She was being pulled back. "LILLIEL!" Nema cried in despair.

The little girl screamed for her in pain and sadness. And then Michael heard the last set of bombs go off, the edges looking down on the Rabbit Fields beginning to crumble down on the fiery, bloody mess. Nema struggled and cried. "LET ME GO!"

"Nema, no!" The Fire Angel hissed, stunned when she managed to turn around and slap his dragon-covered cheek.

"OH GOD, LET ME GO! TRAITOR!" Nema screamed angrily. "FUCKING TRAITOR!"

Michael allowed the insults to tear holes inside him, watching the waves of dark earth swallow up the Hell below them, cries and screams lost in blood and fire, coated over with dirt. Raphael was flying up to the sorry pair in the sky, listening to Nema's loud and pained screams as she turned and continued fighting from Michael's grasp.

"Michael."

"WHAT?" The Fire Angel cried incredulously.

"Let her go…" Raphael said sadly. "Cheriour is no where to be found… and the remaining Hunters are fleeing."

"My fighters?" Nema asked urgently, tears running down her pale cheeks in defined lines.

"… I have found no one."

At last the Fire Angel felt the violent Queen stop her struggle for a short moment, though this moment meant nothing. She soon threw herself from his grasp with an angry and anguished sort of cry, half flying and half falling to the smooth, even ground that buried her 500 best fighters… and Lilliel.

She mumbled incoherent pleas to herself as she dug. Little ivory fingers, stained in blood, further sullied themselves with dark earth and she dug and dug. Dead. Dead! All of them dead! Nyssa, dead! Or at least, as good as dead! … Lilliel.

Lilliel… dead! Dead!

Nema let out a heartbreaking sob as her desperate hands slapped against the ground. No use… if she dug long enough… she would find only death.

Michael watched from several paces behind. This terrible picture unfolding before him. Not one he had thought of at all. Nema was neither alive and happy or dead. She was alive… and completely, wholly miserable, digging in the vain hope of undoing this madness, this ugly trap…

This ugly trap created with the use of the blood that came from HIM.

Nema heard the shuffling of feet approaching her, and she looked over her shoulder with a look Michael longed, with every bit of his being, to never see again. Lost in her ruby red eyes were so much anger and sadness, the War Angel wondered how she could hold it all in. She locked her eyes on him. She didn't blink. It was as if she wished every ounce of pain coursing through her unto him, as if she would have killed right then and there if she wasn't so lost in her own tangled mess of betrayal.

Yes, if he had to some up the emotions in her eyes into one single word, it would have been betrayal.

Michael opened his mouth, unable to form any words. He immediately took an uneasy step backwards as Nema turned crawled forth, settling on her knees, her hands placed on her lap, dainty in spite of the dirt, her head hung low.

Michael realized she was bowing to him. What had he done to deserve this incredibly low bow? He deserved her hatred and pain, nothing more! For everything, every last thing he had ever done. Even before he turned Hunter and betrayed her in her War. Even before he had taken her, used her, filled her with the words, "God, I think I've fallen in love with her," only to be taken away. Even before he had failed to acknowledge her rape. No, Michael was sure he deserved her absolute hatred from the moment she was born… for he had turned away… left her on her own… and damned her to her own version of Hell before she had even said her first word.

Then it hit Michael with an alarming sort of sickness… Nema wasn't bowing to him, though she took the form of a bow so low she nearly kissed the ground.

Michael took another uneasy step backwards, the breath caught in his throat.

She was offering him her head.


	33. Chapter 33

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty Three_

By: Brenli

… No. There was no way he could do it. There was no way he could swing his sword and disconnect her beautiful head from her beautiful body…! She couldn't ask this of him!

She seemed to read his thoughts perfectly. "End this fucking bullshit! You OWE me this much!" Nema cried.

Did he owe her that much? Did he owe her death, by his own hand?

"… There is… nothing else left for you to do to me."

"Nema –"

"You have hurt me in every way IMAGINABLE! Death is all that's left! You may as well do it!" She interrupted whatever thought Michael wished to vocalize.

The mighty War Angel bit at the insides of his cheeks. Death, more or less, WAS all that was left. He had done everything else. He had hated her, loved her, neglected her, protected her… everything in the world that one person could do to another, bad and good, he had done unto her. Except kill her. That… truly was all that was left.

Did that make it viable? It hardly felt like it. He still felt corners of his heart begin to tear at the idea that she would seriously ask this of him.

Maybe… he deserved that kind of pain. Maybe, after allowing her life to crumble… dissipate into the impossibly painful existence it was now… maybe, after all of that, it made sense to do this. He had, in the way only a Guardian Angel can, built her life into this. Maybe… he ought to have ended it, too.

In one fluid motion, Michael swung his blood-smeared fire sword high over his head.

Raphael's icy eyes widened. "Michael…!"

The Fire Angel sighed and brought it down…

"DON'T!"

A short breath escaped Nema's lips, and she collapsed against Michael's arms as he moved down to catch her… her head still firmly attached to her neck and shoulders.

Michael could only muster the courage to bring the flat of the blade down and knock her out. He could never…ever… kill her.

As Michael felt her body limp in his arms, her face buried into his chest, he realized that she was the only person he was completely unable to kill. Even if that was what she wanted.

He only heard Raphael's relieved sigh as soft background noise. He could hear nothing clearly as he slowly picked Nema up, allowing her head to fall into place where his neck met his shoulder… a tender place that almost seemed created for the sole purpose of allowing a woman to fit against him just right… and then he strapped his great sword against his back and stood, cradling Nema in his arms.

He watched her head fall back, still stained in blood and tears. … He fought the urge to kiss away the pain, for he knew that no amount of kisses would clear him of the many ways he had wronged her. "… I couldn't do it." He stated to no one in particular.

"… I'm glad you didn't." Raphael spoke up from beside him.

"Tell them she's safe."

"… What?"

"Tell them she's safe," Michael merely repeated, turning and walking a direction neither to Cheriour or to Rabbit territory.

"Where are you going?" Raphael asked.

"… Away."

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Nema began to feel things again after what seemed like a long while. She knew she wasn't dead. The blow she had felt was too blunt to mean she had been beheaded and not quite strong enough to mean her head had been crushed. Michael had spared her.

… And that was just like him. He was going to let her suffer more…

She felt as though she were being bounced. Not in any strange, playful way, but the average bouncing that naturally comes from being carried.

She blacked out.

When she began coming to for the second time, she felt like she was lying in a bed. It was neither soft nor hard. A warm, wet washcloth danced its way down her arms and over her face as a careful hand brushed back her snowy hair. It moved shyly over her neck and barely touched the innocent area of her chest, just before the rising of her bosom.

A voice, a male voice, warped with the headache pounding through Nema's head, was saying things in a gruff tone. "Tell them all she's not the enemy. Tell them if they make any fucking rumors about taking her for a whore… I WILL kill them." She did become alarmed to feel her left wrist be taken and bound against something…

She blacked out, again.

A third time, Nema began to wake up. Now a couple pillows were cradling her neck and shoulders. Her head still ached, a little, as it flopped to the side and let a small moan escape her mouth. She stretched out… she couldn't pull her arms back down. Nema tugged and tugged. She was bound tightly by each wrist!

Alarm struck her for a second time, and she struggled to open her ruby eyes. The world was so bright for some reason… She squinted, then gave up and closed her eyes again, tugging away.

Then she heard him. "There's no point."

She only began to tug harder. He had her tied to a bed! HE did! In desperation, she began to kick into the air, as if this would somehow free her.

Michael sighed as he watched from his spot on the floor. Like so long ago, he merely seated himself on the ground, next to the head of the bed. She had been out for two hours, and for each minute of those hours Michael had felt as though he were reliving a past that he'd wanted back… Nema asleep in her bed… him sitting beside it in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. Now she woke up and shattered that idea. "Nema, that's not gonna do anything."

Her red eyes shot open and stared at him, and then she did the worst thing imaginable. She screamed bloody murder.

"JESUS, NEMA! SHUT UP!" Michael snarled at her.

"FUCK YOU!" She screeched.

"PLEASE be quiet?"

Nema glared at him with cruel ruby eyes. "Fuck. You." She said with imagined calmness, only to fall back into screams again.

In desperation, Michael tore a long strip of cloth from one of his sheets, obviously not being the type to really care if his sheets were torn. He immediately wrapped the cloth around her mouth several times, tying the ends into a firm knot and reducing Nema to mild, muffled 'mmphs'. "… You MADE me do that. Can't blame me for it."

He watched as his violent Queen stared frightened and angry daggers at him and began flailing again.

Michael threw his biker gloved hands up in the air, clearly fed up with how wrong everything was becoming. "All I wanna do is say I'm sorry, Nema!"

"HMPH!" Nema mumbled from behind layers of cloth, her eyes flashing in hatred.

"You don't believe me, do you? That's true! I just wanna say I'm sorry!"

Nema slammed her boots against his mattress and turned away.

"… Look at me." Michael reached out and turned her face back to him, watching her sniffle and hating the two drops of liquid sadness that made trails down her snow white face. "… Can't even say I'm sorry without making you cry. Some kind of fucking person I am, huh?" After brushing away one tear, he couldn't take watching her cry, anymore. He was… fucking TIRED of seeing her cry. "All I ever do is make you cry…" He turned away. He couldn't do this… this was much harder than he thought it would be. The mighty and fearless War Angel couldn't bear to apologize to a girl he had wronged. "… And I really am sorry, Nema. For everything." He paused. "… When I say everything I mean… EVERYTHING. I… haven't done anything right for you since you were born. I mean…"

Again, he paused. He was having a hard time finding the right words, though when he'd thought of what to say, it had come through clear. Now it was all falling apart. "… I don't know where to start, Nema. It all… just kind of lumps together. But I'm sorry for all of it. I mean… if I knew then that… you'd become someone I would… actually WANT to be with… If I knew that, Nema, I wouldn't have left you alone like I did…! I know it was wrong. I never used to CARE if what I did was wrong. But… I mean, if I could redo everything… I would have watched over you, I know that. And Cheriour wouldn't have raped you, because I would have killed him for ever even thinking it. Really, I would have. I would have ripped his head off and skinned him and left him for God knows what! He deserves that for what he's done to you!" Michael hissed. "I'm sorry that… I ruined your life. I didn't know that I would fall in love with you. I didn't know it would turn around to bite me…"

The Fire Angel took a breath. He was trying not to acknowledge the tears building up in his bright blue, frustrated eyes. "And when I slept with you… I want you to know what I said at the end was real. 'God, I think I've fallen in love with her.' I KNOW I have. You wanna know a secret?" A miserable smile crossed his lips. "I think I knew that way before then… At least I felt that way a lot of the time. I wasn't gonna tell you for a number of reasons. First off… I don't do this whole… love, thing. Love is a risky thing. It's dangerous. It can destroy people. It's not something I wanted to have in case it… ruined me." He finished that sentence quietly. "… And second of all… admitting that puts you in danger. If you reciprocate, I mean. And I know you do… did." He corrected himself. He was sure that after the Holy Blood battle, any love she had still felt had diminished.

Michael was quick to wipe his hands over his eyes. "There is one thing I wanted to make sure you know, Nema!" He said firmly. "… I was told you were dead, when Cheriour came to me with an offer to become a Rabbit Hunter. He said he'd clear me of my so-called crime if I killed for him. And it's not that I'm ashamed of loving you! Look at you, Nema! Leading a war all by yourself! Taking charge of some of the best fighters I've ever fucking seen, and you're one Hell of a warrior, yourself! You're a Queen for a reason, Nema! Truth is I'm fucking proud of you!" He laughed, but it came out shaky and pathetic. "… I did it… because I honestly thought I would never see you again… and I figured, you know… you wouldn't want me branded Fallen when I'd never get to say that… I love you."

Suddenly Michael slammed his fist into his bedside table, the top drawer sliding open. "And then it's just my fucking luck! You've been alive all along! I swear to God, Nema, I wanted to tell Cheriour to go fuck himself; I was gonna be on your side! But… You know, there you are… hating me, and kissing some other guy. And I don't blame you…! I am not a date-worthy person! Never said I was, and on top of that I betrayed you! I don't blame you for a second, just so you know! … It's all my fault, anyway. Lots of things, involving you, are my fault."

He tried turning and leaning against his little table, but he still couldn't find it in himself to look right at her. She'd become dreadfully quiet. "And then… That man died… and you just… cried and cried… and you told me it hurt. And, I don't know…" His voice cracked. "I snapped. You know… I figured, even if I make my fucking quota and pull out of the war I'm just gonna be miserable all the time. I mean, either way, I was fucked over. So I decided, okay, I'm done. Fuck… everything, I was through. And then… I find out… Cheriour's using all this blood he's been constantly drawing from me… and making bombs, and he was gonna take you all out… he was gonna kill you… And… I swear, Nema, I tried so fucking hard to stop all of it! And when I couldn't I tried to warn you! And when that didn't work, either, I could only save you! … That little girl who died… I'm assuming you must've been close to her… And I'm sorry I didn't let you take her… But you would've gone down… and died because of MY blood and MY fucked up decisions. I can't… live with that idea. It's bad enough living the way I am now…" He paused to breathe. This time, he allowed the tears to drop from his sad, blue eyes.

"So… that's all I have to say. I'm sorry. I know that doesn't fix anything, but that's all I can think of saying. I'm sorry… for everything, every little thing that I've ever done to hurt you. And…" Michael paused, sniffed, cleared his throat. "I love you. I'm not expecting those to be magical words or something… making everything okay. I'm just… making sure you know. There wasn't ever a moment when I didn't love you. I know… it probably felt like, for a long time, that I hated you. That's not the truth. I love you. In a perfect world we'd be going down to Harajuku later tonight… it is Sunday down there, and all. And we'd beat up some Rabbit Hunters, and come back home in the morning, laughing our asses off. That's what we'd be doing."

And then Michael couldn't help but hit his bedside table for a second time. "But we're not gonna do that, and that's my own damn fault! I fucked up! I fucked up so bad and for the first time, Nema, I'm regretting it! Because I know you won't forgive me after all of this… and I'm not stupid enough to ask you to! When I untie you, I expect you to leave and I don't think I'll ever hear from you again… And that's okay; I deserve it!" A third time, he hit the table. "And I will sit here and I will miss you and that's what I get for doing everything I've done! That's my own punishment and that makes sense, so just fuck it, then! I'll just sit here crying like a damn fool." Finally, he dared to face Nema fully, the tears leaving shining trails over the black and blue ink of his tattoo. "TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT THIS, NEMA…! I want you to know that you will be the ONLY woman who will EVER do this to me!"

There. He supposed that was all he had to say. It was a whole lot… it had come out jumbled and strange, but that was best he could do. Michael had never been good with apologies, anyway… but for her sake, he tried his best. And now he looked upon the reward for trying as hard as he had. Nema lying there, her ruby eyes shut tight, sniffles escaping her.

"Please stop crying…!" He suddenly begged, ignoring the fact that he was crying with her. "I'm tired of seeing you cry! I fucked up and I said I was sorry and that I love you! I want you to go home and be happy! I don't wanna RUIN anything, anymore!"

There was a sudden and rude knock upon his door, and he let loose and exasperated groan, "I'M NOT IN ANY DAMN MOOD FOR ANYTHING! FUCK OFF!"

"Michael-sama…." A deep, slow voice persisted.

"Kamael…!" The Fire Angel snarled warningly.

"… There is… a Rabbit Hunter at the door…"

"I'VE GOT NO TIME FOR THE LIKES OF THEM!"

"… He appears to have a contract in his hands… I believe… it is a renewal of your previous contract." Kamael finished calmly.

Michael swiped madly at the tears on his face and set to work untying Nema's wrists. "I'm done with Rabbit Hunting. You won't ever see me again." This was his version of a goodbye, and with that he left her.

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"Get lost." Michael was quick to say. He didn't even let the uneasy Rabbit Hunter greet him.

"… Well… I need you see if you'll sign something first."

"Not interested." The Fire Angel said gruffly.

The Rabbit Hunter shifted his weight from foot to foot. "… Cheriour-sama thought it might interest you to know about your number of kills total –"

"He thought wrong!" Michael snapped.

" – The total comes to a thousand. One thousand, even."

"I SAID I'M NOT INTERESTED!"

The Rabbit Hunter took two steps back. "… Well… you see, you have obviously met your quota, so your contract is fulfilled."

"Good."

"… Cheriour-sama has requested that you rejoin his forces."

"I'm cleared for being in love, right?"

"Yes. You met your quota; he must uphold the contract."

"Then here's what I think about rejoining his forces…!" He watched with restrained glee as the Rabbit Hunter yelped and dropped the papers he held to the ground, which had suddenly burst into flame. "Now you run off to your base and tell Cheriour something for me."

The Rabbit Hunter stammered, "W-what message do you have for him?"

"He's a marked man. One day I'll kill him." And then Michael slammed the door and locked it.

He ignored all the curious stares from his men. The sad truth was… he wanted to know if Nema had left yet. So he rushed on and refused to acknowledge any sidelong glance tossed to him. Nema was more important right now. He wanted to know if she was already gone. A part of him hoped that when he opened his bedroom door, Nema would still be in there. That she would be smiling and happy. That nothing bad had ever happened between them. While he was at it, he hoped the sun was shining when he opened that door. Nema looked her best at two times of the day: midday and midnight. Each time either the sun or the moon hung so high in the sky, it seemed to make her glow.

But he opened his door to find that Nema was not there. His sheets were a little messy from her struggle. The binds that held her wrists still hung from the bedposts. The impromptu gag laid on top of his pillows.

And on top of that, the sky was gray and dull.

Well, that was his luck and he ought to just get used to it.

It was at this moment that something kicked the door closed and embraced him. Two slim arms, strong as a warrior's should be but maintaining a graceful, elegant appearance, wrapped around him. The skin was white as snow.

"… But I don't want to never see you again." The feminine voice choked and stumbled on tears. "You think I shouldn't forgive you. Maybe I shouldn't. But I don't want you to suffer just because… you fucked up my life. I mean… ruining my life is a hefty thing… I guess… it would make sense that you should suffer." Her hold on him tightened. "But that's not what I want…! I don't see the justice in making you messed up because you messed me up. It doesn't make me any happier! It makes me want to cry more! I love you too much to want you all stuck like this!" She half-laughed, half-cried. "… Rujiel knew, and Nyssa knew, and Lucifer knows, and Alexiel… and everyone. They all know I still love you. They all have different opinions on that but the point is, they all know that… you're the one that messed me up, so you are also the only one that can put me back together…!"

Michael took a shaky breath and blinked his wide eyes, gone bright blue once again. "I don't know how to put you back together."

"I can tell you how. You already did most of it." She sniffled back tears. "You said you were sorry and you told me the truth. You told me you still loved me. All that's left is making me feel like you still love me." She unwrapped her arms from around him and brushed away what she hoped were her final tears, for tonight. "Just turn around."

He was slow to do so. Nema found herself taking him by the shoulders and speeding up the process. "And then all you have to do is kiss me…" She pleaded. "Like you mean it."

Michael wasn't sure how to kiss "like he meant it." He hesitated. He realized something he would never admit to anyone… he was a little afraid of kissing her. He wasn't sure why. He wanted to. But he just couldn't bring himself to touch his lips to hers. He could cup her adorable white face in his hands, which he did. And he could lean close enough to her to almost begin a kiss, which he did…

"What are you, a prude?" Nema pouted and finally kissed him with a rough and teasing peck on the center of his lips.

The Fire Angel blinked rapidly at her peeved face. "… Prude? Fuck you, Nema!" He snapped. "Just… You know you've had a fucking SHITTY day. I don't think you could HANDLE my kinds of kisses!"

"Feh!" She mocked him. "You think I'm too delicate, that's pathetic! I'm not like most girls, you know. I make strong men cry."

Again, Michael was taken aback. "… Hey, don't be a bitch!"

"Make me stop, then." She fought the smile down as Michael took her up into his strong arms, crushing her against him, lips devouring her own in a kiss Michael was now notorious for: a violent yet passionate one.

"Good enough?"

"Not long enough." Nema breathed, and then he kissed her again. This time, it was not one of his notorious ones. It was long but soft, not heated but it seemed to hold a passion all its own. "… Now you've made me feel like I am loved again."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: Hmmm, this chapter is only 9 pages… but probably 9 highly-anticipated pages. Yes, I fixed it, I fixed it! See them all smiling and kissy and mooshy. Hey, they deserve it. Been a long time and a long hard road for them. Such a sorry couple. Not so sorry, anymore, though!

But tis not the end. There's still a war, don'tcha know? Nema's got Rabbits to free!


	34. Chapter 34

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty Four_

By: Brenli

Michael had probably the very best dream he'd ever had last night. 'Course, it hardly started out like a good dream, and he had been more than sure it was a real nightmare, but it had ended on probably the best note, ever. Because Nema was his, finally. Seriously, it took him long enough, didn't it? He got her back! She… WANTED to be back!

Seriously… the best fucking dream EVER. He'd never forget it.

He had kissed her twice, then several times more. She had kissed him back. It became extremely obvious that Nema had no intention of leaving for the whole night. And that was FINE. COMPLETELY FINE. She had stayed. She untied her mini-crown and kicked off her boots and she curled up under his several sheets, one of which he had torn. And that was ENTIRELY FINE, too, really!

He slept with her. Not in any sexual sense. Though it had been so long, and they were having trouble not kissing each other, he had been fine with letting Nema sleep all pressed against him. In this dream many of her fighters had died, and one little girl, on top of that. He wasn't gonna get pushy and selfish about it…even if he DID really want to.

Well…

Near the end of the dream… well, she started it. No, really, she did! She mumbled something about being too warm and slipped off her petticoat. And then… other things started coming off. Always because she was "too warm." Well it's just no good teasing a man like that, you know.

So it had happened, sure. It had been different than the first time they had been together, mostly because they were both much too tired and had gone through too much stress to be interested in… you know… being rough. But it was still good, it was true and pure like all lovemaking should be. And when they had finished he had stared down at her, smiled, and whispered, "… So then we're finally together."

And she had traced the line of his tattoo with one pale finger and laughed quietly. "I dare God to try and stop us, now."

Thus had ended the best dream ever.

Now, the light of the next day had begun to filter in and shine on the Fire Angel's face. At first, his face wrinkled in annoyance and he began to turn onto his side. His arm brushed against something, and he opened his blue-green eyes. They widened a little, then narrowed in the way a tired yet content man would. He was oblivious to the fact that his eyes suddenly looked much more blue. "… Hey."

Nema allowed a smile to curl her lips. "… Is it time to wake up?"

"Mmmmmmph…" Was all that left his mouth as he pressed kiss after kiss on her forehead, nose, and finally her soft lips, shifting his weight over her pale body.

Nema laughed. "I guess not…"

There was a knock on the door.

"… Busy…" Michael called lazily, his kisses muffling childish giggles that were escaping his Queen.

But the knocking persisted after a while.

"I'm busy!" Michael snapped while nibbling on the curve of her neck.

And still someone made it a point to make a dark spot in Michael's sunny morning. Again, someone knocked on his door.

And this time, Michael threw open his top drawer, took out a dagger, and flung it at his door. The blade landed deeply in the wood and whoever dared to disturb him could be heard stumbling backwards. "I SAID I'M FUCKING BUSY!" The Fire Angel snarled. "… What's so funny?" He asked Nema.

"That's not supposed to be funny to me?" She asked. He merely shrugged and kissed her deeply.

This time, whoever it was practically punched Michael's door.

"That's it." Michael grumbled and pulled several more daggers from this same drawer, throwing him at the door with each word he yelled. "I. AM. FUCKING. BUSY. ASSHOLE!"

"… How many more daggers do you have in there?" Nema asked him.

"I think like 20…" He pursed his lips in deep thought.

Her pale brows arched up at the War Angel. "You have a drawer full of nothing but random daggers?"

"No!" Michael cried. "There's a gun in there, too!"

"MICHAEL!" The intruder snapped, still pounding on his door. It was Raphael. "I AM SO DAMN SORRY TO RUIN YOUR MINIATURE HONEYMOON, BUT COME ON OUT! BRING NEMA WITH YOU!"

Nema began squirming out from under her fiery Angel. She laughed at Michael's mumbled curses toward his friend and quickly dressed with him, and then she faltered when handling the black, man-tailored shirt that she had been in possession of for so long. She saw that Michael was now as fully dressed as he needed to be, though he lacked a shirt. She held it out to him.

He took it from her, but only so that he could throw it around her shoulders. Silently admiring the smile this drew from her, he went to the stabbed door and finally opened it. "I hate you." He greeted.

"… Good morning to you, too…" Raphael responded unsurely, watching as little white fingers curled around the edge of Michael's door and pulled it open even further.

The Wind Angel stood there and processed the image before him. Michael was peevish and angry, but it was because Raphael had put a stopper on… well, Raphael wasn't going to think of what he might have put a stopper on. The point was that his fellow Archangel wasn't angry and sullen with heartbreak. He didn't need to be, because the one he wanted was half-hidden behind him, wearing his shirt, smiling shyly and running her fingers through her snow white hair. And Raphael smiled. "… For a while there I was thinking I'd never see you both like that. I'm glad I was wrong."

"Oh, good, then you'll let us be ALONE! See ya!" Michael made to shut the door, but Nema stepped before him, her left hand resting over his heart.

"Wait." She said, her right hand pointing down at the sword in Raphael's hands. "… That was Nyssa's sword."

Raphael looked down at the Qarnier in its freshly washed state and held it out to her. "It looked to me like she was a sort of co-leader in the last battle with you. I thought you would want to have it."

And Nema took the sword in her hands and traced over the word 'victory.' "Thank you." She said quietly.

"… So what happens from here on out? Regarding the war." Raphael asked after a moment of silence began to get too long.

It was at this moment that Michael cleared his throat. "I wanna add my men to yours."

The Qarnier slipped a little in her pale hands, and she looked over her shoulder with wide, red eyes. "… They'll have a hard time taking you in. You know that."

The War Angel shrugged. "I said I WANTED to. Not that I WAS."

"But I want you to join."

At this, Michael let a confident and haughty smirk cross his features. "Yeah? You need help that badly?"

Raphael watched as Nema prodded his chest. "Don't get cocky! I don't NEED your help, I WANT your help. There's a difference!"

Michael heaved an overdone sigh. "OKAY, FINE. You've convinced me enough. I'll aid you, so you can stop begging." And with that he left his room and marched down the hall, disheveled hair and all.

Raphael looked down at Nema and her wide red eyes and her gaping mouth. When she looked to him, he could only shrug, and then she immediately turned on her heel and rushed after her Angel, arms flailing. "STOP ACTING LIKE I NEED YOUR HELP SO BADLY, YOU CREEP! I WAS DOING JUST FINE WITHOUT YOU, YOU KNOW!"

The Wind Angel shook his head. Admittedly, this was hard to swallow. He had somehow become far too accustomed to never seeing them together that now that they were, and acting as though they had never really been apart to begin with, Raphael wanted to laugh. Thank goodness they possessed an uncanny ability to bounce back.

"What's that? I told ya you could stop begging, Nema! I'll help out!" Michael called over his shoulder and pushed open a freely swinging door.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M WHINING ABOUT, JERK, I –" Nema immediately stopped talking and stood straight and still behind him as she watched many strong men stop eating their various breakfasts and salute their leader.

"At ease, men!" Michael commanded freely, a proud grin placed on his features. "As of today we have officially switched sides. If you haven't already burned your cloaks you will do so TODAY! We will hunt Hunters, now." Michael smiled cruelly. "But you will leave Cheriour to me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

Michael nodded firmly. "Good. Now you will all meet the Queen of the Revolution, Mudou Nemaelle." He smoothly stepped aside motioned for her to step up. "Aside from myself, you are under her command. You will treat her as you treat me, and if I see any disobedience I will beat you so hard you will wish for a mercy killing!"

Nema stood before them all, unsure of what to do until she felt the War Angel's hand brush over her back, and she stepped forward. "… I will admit to you now that I treat my warriors a bit differently than Michael seems to. However, I expect nothing but the best from warriors trained by the War Angel, and I do not expect any of you to take advantage of the fact that I don't command you to stand, to respond in strict military fashion, and I talk in a softer voice. I think that in due time you'll realize that in spite of my modesty and my dresses I am MORE than a little deadly. Now," Nema continued, starting to feel a little more sure of herself around these white-winged fighters Michael had suddenly offered to her, "the decision to become allies is still fresh and there are still several matters to discuss between your leader and I. Regardless I believe it's safe to say that you will be spending time with my fighters both in and out of battle. You've just come out of the Revolution killing my kind. Do not expect them to welcome you with open arms for this exact reason. If any of them react violently, report this to either Michael or I immediately and I swear to you that I will deal with it as though they had lashed out against any other ally we have. Other than this…" Nema suddenly dropped the authoritarian manner and smiled. She bowed her head just slightly as a gesture of respect. "I welcome you all as my new warriors."

When she looked up, she was slightly astonished to find that each of Michael's men had decided to salute her. She decided to be openly taken aback and was relieved to see that they all began to regard her with the slightly bowed heads that she was accustomed to seeing in her territory.

"ONE MORE THING!" Michael suddenly said firmly, and his fighters immediately dropped their salutes and stood firm and attentive. Michael smirked and slid his arm around Nema's slim waist. "She's MINE. Tough luck if you were fucking interested!"

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"Raphael, you're back!" Barbiel cried happily. "Why were you gone for so long? I was afraid you'd DIED!"

"I promised I would be safe!" Raphael retorted. "Where is everyone?"

"I wouldn't know."

The Wind Angel smiled. "That's a pity… I've brought a couple people we haven't seen for a while…" And with that he moved aside and in stepped Nema, with Michael right behind her.

At first Barbiel didn't know what to do or say. There was something about their countenance that seemed a little too unreal. While she had no part in this Revolution of Nema's, as far as she had known, the Fire Angel and the Violent Queen were driven so far apart that even if they had come together within the past night, she couldn't really imagine them being as close and at ease with each other as they so blatantly were, now. Nema had rushed forth upon sight of the Angel Nurse's son, and Michael was always two steps behind her, and when Barbiel allowed Nema to take Abel up into her arms, she watched as Nema cooed to Abel and allowed Michael to peer at the little Rabbit boy over her pale shoulder and smile a crooked smile. It was like they had never been apart, to begin with.

"Barbiel, he is ADORABLE…! I love his eyes…" Nema giggled along with Abel, "And he has the cutest laugh!"

"It's a good strong laugh. That's a good thing, for a boy."

Raphael blinked rapidly at the Angel who had just spoken. "What do you know about children, Michael?" And he laughed when his fellow Archangel promptly flipped him off.

"… Sweetheart?"

Nema looked up to see her mother standing in the doorway. "Hey, mother." She greeted her quietly, watching her mother's blue eyes shift from her to Michael and back again.

Sara, otherwise known as Jibril, came up to her daughter, and Nema handed Abel to Raphael, who gratefully took his son in his arms. And the Water Angel took Nema's hands in her own and told her, "Your father and I heard about the battle."

Nema offered her mother a weak smile to hide the sudden frown. "… There is no one left. Nyssa is gone. Lilliel got stuck in it, too." She allowed her mother to embrace her and continued. "None of them will have died in vain. When this is over, I'll have won… and that is something they all helped me with. Where is dad?"

"I'm right here."

Nema looked to see her father in the doorway, eyeing Michael. She looked over her shoulder to see that Michael wasn't taking too kindly to this suspicious and distrusting glare being sent his way. Of course, she didn't ever expect them to approve of any type of romantic relationship with Michael. He was hardly the type they had imagined her being with… on top of his betrayal.

But Setsuna had the decency to wipe away his thoughtful frown and wrap up his albino daughter in a hug. "I'm glad you're alive!"

"You thought I was dead?"

"We'd heard many died. We never heard who." Setsuna continued to embrace her. "I swear every day your mother and I are afraid we'll lose you. We thought we'd lost you once… I don't want that to happen again."

"You know…" The Fire Angel began, and scowled a little as he caught Setsuna's distrusting gaze. "Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you, huh?" He snapped.

"… I'd rather not talk about it in the same room as Abel." Setsuna said firmly.

"Fine." Michael snapped. "… So, you won't mind me telling you to have a little more faith in your daughter, then, will ya?"

"We have plenty of faith in –" Setsuna started.

"Feh! Not enough!" Michael interrupted. "She's come this far and hasn't died or gone ghoul on you. She's done this all by herself!" Michael grinned. "I already told her, but I might as well tell you. I'm fucking proud of her, myself. She's gonna be FINE. You oughta have faith in her."

Setsuna and Sara listened to this, but had nothing to say in response.

Nema cleared her throat and stepped away from her father. "… As it is… I thought up a plan to try and put an end to the war, anyway… if I can find a way to Raziel."

"Really?" Both parents exclaimed.

"It's just a daydream of sorts… it could work, but it couldn't… for this reason, Michael and I will still be fighting." She nodded to her Angel.

"But what is your plan…?" Barbiel finally spoke up, the curiosity overtaking her.

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"… So I can count on you to never misplace that key, if it's always dangling around your neck, right?" Uriel asked in the brooded tones he and suddenly adopted.

Katou tugged on the chain around his neck. "It'll never leave me, Uri!"

"Uriel."

"Eh?"

"My name is Uriel. I won't have any of this… Uri, nonsense." The Earth Angel said darkly.

Katou adjusted the red bandana tied about his head and eyed him suspiciously. "… Yeah, whatever. Hey, what's the deal with those scissors?"

"Nothing." Uriel said, but he promptly cut into the dark waves of his hair, observing himself in the mirror. Once he was done, his hair was now much shorter, the waves flowing about his face in layers, but no longer than this. "… There."

Suddenly Katou sighed. "You're pissed at me, aren't you?"

Uriel smiled cruelly. "Have I any reason to be pissed at you?"

"Yeah, so I'm not gonna say you should be happy for me or whatever…" Katou said plainly, honestly. "… I want to be with her. I'm gonna treat her right."

"Which is something I'm incapable of doing."

"… You made her wait so long, Uriel."

Uriel shrugged. "I am attracted to her, but I do not love her. There's a difference between the two."

"So you still love Alexiel, then?"

"I love no one." Uriel said quickly. "… Leave."

Katou hesitated at first, his blue eyes attempting to analyze the tall, dark figure brooding before him. He gave up and left, his right hand idly tugging on Doll's key as it hung about his neck.

Alone. Finally alone. Though in ways, he was always alone, anyway. Uriel took off the cloak he had worn over his black clothing and stared at the image in the mirror before him. There he was, standing in his dark clothing, the cloak lying amongst the waves of dark hair he had cut away from himself, just as he cast off that thing everyone seemed so obsessed with lately… that thing, love…

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"So basically, you're planning on doing some kind of elaborate secret agent stunt to break into Raziel's building and catch him in his office?" Michael couldn't help but laugh. "Now you're REALLY dreaming big, Nema."

She pouted and prodded his chest. "So far all my dreams have eventually worked well, so why not go for this one?"

"I'll bet you the war will get the job done sooner than your covert operation!" Michael announced playfully.

"I'll take your bet! What are the stakes?" Nema met his challenge as she walked with her parents to the front doorway of Uriel's mansion.

"… I have no idea, but it's a bet!"

"No, I wanna know what the stakes are before I really do take your bet!"

"… Why don't YOU make the stakes, then?" Michael grinned confidently, watching Nema's eyes pierce through him as she thought for a moment.

"… If I win… You have to wear fancier clothing. Like… Jinho."

"I have to wear a fucking TOP HAT?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Is there a problem with the way I dress NOW?"

"No, but it would be something fun, don't you think?"

Michael sneered. "Fancy dandy goth crap… That's your thing, not mine." He shrugged. "Fine, whatever. And if I win you wear…" He switched to a whisper so that her parents wouldn't hear and endured the half-hidden smack she delivered.

"Calm down…" Sara whispered to Setsuna, as he clenched his fists.

"… Nema? Oh my goodness, is that you?" Doll rushed forth, waving. "Are you leaving already?"

"We couldn't find anyone!" Nema laughed. "And we do have to leave… I have to go back to my people and tell them the news?"

"What news?" The maid asked, and it was then that she noticed the man behind her. "… Michael, you're here, too?"

"Does it look like I am?"

"Yeah…"

"Then I am." The Fire Angel said plainly.

Doll stood for a moment, blinked, and then pouted. "I almost forgot you are such a JERK!"

"Oh, stop whining!"

Nema ignored the brewing squabble and ultimately eliminated it by taking note that Doll had dropped a box by her feet. "… Are you moving?"

This brought the smile back onto Doll's face. "I'm moving in Katou's room! Do you think you could help me out? I can tell you all about it!"

Nema was quick to join her, and just like that she was gone, leaving Michael with her parents.

"… Well so much for needing to leave, Nema!" He called after her, but the piercing gaze of her father struck him for far too long, and he couldn't help but snarl. "What the FUCK is your problem, Setsuna?"

"What do you want out of my daughter?" He responded gruffly.

"Setsuna!" Sara quickly reprimanded him, and turned to Michael. "You see we're constantly worried for her. You –"

"You hurt my daughter more than I'd ever feared!" Setsuna snapped. "On top of you being cruel in general, you left and betrayed her right when she was depending on you most! You weren't there to see what you did to her while you were a Rabbit Hunter. She couldn't speak of you, or even hear of you. We purposely stopped mentioning you all together just for her sake. Now you've switched sides and are treating her like –"

"I love her." Michael said firmly. He'd heard enough of these accusations… he had reminded HIMSELF of his wrongs several times, as it was! He didn't need this fatherly protection throwing verbal daggers at him, though he supposed this was the most natural reaction. Setsuna was always a stubborn little bastard. He wouldn't let Michael off the hook… but dammit he WISHED he would!

"Do you SWEAR to God you love her?"

"I don't because GOD fucked us over from the beginning!" The Fire Angel snapped. "I fucked up, Setsuna. I know that. I've told myself that a whole lot. I spent yesterday telling Nema that. I FUCKED UP. I know. I got it! But it's different, now…! I won't fuck up again if I can help it!"

Setsuna and Sara watched as Michael snapped angrily at them, bright green eyes burning into them as he spoke pure, honest and angry words. Those eyes of his began to take a new hue as Michael paused and took a deep breath. They were turning a bit more blue, as they often did… when he thought of her.

"I am going to make it up to her. Is that good enough for you?"

Setsuna focused on the floor, unable to say much of anything as the anger lost its target and settled in an unhappy lump, hopefully to melt away now that the one Nema loved spoke some reassuring words.

"… I will protect her. Nothing will come between us again. Nothing."

And Michael felt Sara take one of his hands in both of hers, and she smiled softly before her fellow Elemental Angel. "… Then we can ask nothing more of you."

"So there you are."

The group of three turned to see Uriel with his new hair. "You cut your hair?" Michael arched a red brow.

Uriel ignored him. "I have heard from Raphael… the good news, concerning you. You are a lucky one. Remember that."

"… Well someone's a little gloomy today…!" Michael made ready to say something more, when Nema finally made her appearance.

"That was faster than I thought. We can go, now!" Nema regarded Uriel with a slight bow that hid sad ruby eyes for a short moment. "… I like your hair, Uriel."

The Earth Angel merely nodded to her. "Be on your way, then."

He had said nothing more and retreated to his library once the fiery Angel and his violent Queen left Hades. For a long time, the pair was silent, but it was a comfortable one. "… So did my dad yell at you?"

At this Michael suddenly scowled. "I hate fathers. They're so fucking protective!"

"Hey, now!" Nema bumped him with her hip. "He will lighten up if you be good and obey me for maybe a year or so."

Michael paused. "… Fuck you, Nema! I'll die before I become a slave!"

Nema thrust out her lower lip. "Even MY slave?"

"YES, EVEN YOUR SLAVE!"

She laughed and lightly shoved him, allowing him to come back and wrap an arm around her shoulders and tug on a lock of ivory hair. "… So Doll and Katou are together, now."

"… Seriously? That anal retentive maid actually got together with someone?"

"It's not an impossible idea, you know! And they seem happy together, as weird as that is. But Doll did tell me that Uriel hasn't been taking it well…"

"Yeah, well…" Michael shrugged. "I think there was only one girl he'd ever REALLY wanted, though, and it wasn't her. Seriously, if he really had a thing for Doll? He'd probably tell them to leave. Off to Assiah for them."

"Is Uriel really that cruel?"

"It's his house!" Michael merely offered for an answer. "… Uriel does one of two things when he's angry. He either explodes or he just kinda goes inside himself and sulks."

Nema sighed "Why can't everything just be okay for once?"

"Feh! That would be too damn easy, wouldn't it?" Michael paused. "… FUCK!" He made ready to fight.

A white wave of I-Children were rushing at him, but Nema stood firm before him and ruptured a line of earth before them, the dirt flying up in clouds of dust and rock. She smiled crookedly. "… Wow. I've never tried that before. That was cool." And then she put aside her momentary amusement and called out to her warriors. "He is an ally, I promise!"

After a pause a great cry of confusion grew from the mass of fighters.

"Put aside your weapons and get all the warriors into the soapbox room! There's a great deal to discuss!" She commanded, and as the dust settled her Rabbit soldiers mumbled in confusion and disappointment and left.

"… I don't even have a fucking WEAPON and they were gonna go ahead and try to rip me apart anyway! How fucking merciless can you get?" Michael fumed.

But Nema only looked over her shoulder with a smile and shrugged. "Welcome to Rabbit Territory."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: Wooooooo! Guess what happened on the 24th of July? Mah birthday! Oh yeah! Who's 19? I'm 19! XD

Actually, it's not nearly that exciting. The 15th Angel Sanctuary book doesn't come out till August where I'm at. I'm very much DYING inside with the wait.

And furthermore…

OH MY FUCKING GOD lots of hugs for poor Uri Uri! This is completely KILLING ME! AMETRINEY! WHY? THIS FUCKING SUCKS!

Well I'm not sure if any of you really understand that last note, but that's okay. Ametriney will understand, and that's who this message is to. So there.


	35. Chapter 35

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty Five_

By: Brenli

For perhaps the tenth time that day, blood came down like rain. No one paid much heed to any of this, however, for these days, each fighter had become much more interested in charging ahead and taking what lives they could before it was their turn to fall. Call it hopeless and sad… but this was what was left for the Rabbit Hunters. Never before had it been more obvious that a large percentage of their success had been due to the fact that they had once claimed Michael and his army of men as one of their own… now, it hit them like a slap in the face, or a sword through the heart, or a bullet in the head.

By now, their battles were routine, however negative they might have been. For in spite of the casualties the violent Queen Nemaelle had suffered from the Holy Blood battle, she had received a vast number of ruthless White Wing soldiers that made up for these numbers, and her people had been filled with even more bloodlust and anger for the friends and relatives and lovers they had lost. Now, the Rabbit Hunters were getting used to doing what they were forced to do: Protect their bases. One by one each base and hideout became part of the aptly-named Rabbit Territory… Rabbit Territory was growing. And now the Rabbit Hunters were hardly hunting at all. They were being hunted.

But maybe they should have seen this coming… all these cut up, shot up bodies… ground so bloody it was slippery… from the rising of the sun to the setting of it. Maybe they should have seen it, when they realized that suddenly, one little Rabbit girl wouldn't take the genocide, anymore. And maybe it really should have hit them when the news came out… Michael, the Angel born for War, was taking advantage of the clearing his contract and would be joining the Revolution AGAIN… for NEMA'S cause, this time.

Well, it certainly was hitting them, now, as the Rabbit Hunters fell before their opponents, both Rabbit and White Wing, now. Some, only wounded, were forced to watch as the carnage unfolded before them, ugly, gorey, frightening. Images they had seen and forced upon Improper Children now were mirrored on the bodies of Rabbit Hunters, and the wounded did nothing but watch. For there was nothing to do but watch. Maybe they deserved it.

Yes… there was nothing to do but watch as the Rabbits and White Wings took down the Hunters… and then finally… THEY came.

The Fiery Angel and the Violent Queen. That was what they were, now. A deadly and dangerous duo, and while they had spent a good deal fighting, they came together in the end, as they always did, for a splendid finale they liked to do. The wounded that were able to see watched on with hopeless eyes… two bloody figures, the Queen and the Angel, offering each other warm smiles in spite of the fresh bloodlust. And with a flourish of his hand, their base, once tall and proud, burst into flame, the windows shattering from the heat inside. And with a flourish of hers, their base became nothing more than debris lit on fire. And they each smiled and hugged.

And that was it. It became a sign, and the Rabbit Hunters took it for mercy. This meant the Rabbits and their White Wing allies were finished… they were going home. The wounded had a chance to heal and fight again.

But as the warriors finished off any leftover serious threats and left for their homes, the wounded Hunters could only lie there and stare at the sky. If they dared to smile, it was empty. Because the truth behind this so-called merciful end was that the Rabbits could afford to let the wounded live.

They were winning well enough.

And when the Violent Queen and the Fiery Angel returned to the place they called home, they washed up, ate heartily, and spoke of the possible maneuvers they could make next. Sometimes they celebrated, but this was only if they made a spectacular advancement in the war effort. This was one thing that Nema and Michael agreed on. While both were fond of parties, they would keep their heads clear enough to focus on the true win: getting Cheriour and his Rabbit Hunters to surrender.

But on this night, Michael decided he could afford to celebrate in the quiet of the war leaders' conference room. Why? Because today they had destroyed the base that Cheriour had run off to. He had overheard this from Rabbit Hunters urgently inquiring about his safety.

And, unfortunately, he was safe.

But now he was without a room and many of his personal belongings.

And for this, the great Archangel thought he could afford to sit back in the large and comfy chair with his feet propped up on it, drinking his wine straight from the bottle and staring up at the mapped out locations of the majority of the Rabbit Hunting bases.

"Michael, you're already drunk?"

He looked up at his violent and most treasured Queen, dressed in white and looking as otherworldly and beautiful as he could ever dream she'd be. "I'm not drunk YET."

"Yet." Nema smiled.

He merely returned the favor, took out a dagger and threw it at the map, watching it land right on the mark he wished it would hit. "One more down, Nema!"

"But how many more to go?"

"I don't think there are many. You've seen the numbers."

She nodded and replaced Michael's dagger with a sharp pin tied off with a red ribbon, a mark showing they had cleared out another official and proudly standing base. "They do seem to be dwindling, aren't they?"

"We are DESTROYING them." Michael said with a grin. "Won't be long, Nema… We'll get HIM next. Then it'll all be over, and we'll throw a big party, you and I…! And it will last all week, and we'll make it a holiday…!"

Nema sighed in happiness and idly observed the dagger in her hands. "I think your wine is getting to you."

"Hey, I want to celebrate! We were so close to getting Cheriour, so fucking close…!" The wine swayed in its bottle as the War Angel swirled it in his hand. "… And I have good news."

"Oh?"

With this Michael laughed and beckoned Nema to come to him, and she settled in his lap, as they often did when they discussed… just about anything. "Nema, your dad finally likes me!"

Nema took the wine bottle from his hand and tossed him a warm smile. "Did he really say so?"

"It was yesterday, when I told you to sleep 'cause you were looking too tired, and I took care of everything for you. Remember when he visited, and asked why you weren't bloodied from the battle, and you told him what I did?" Michael grinned and ran his fingers through her ivory hair. "He came up to me, and you wanna know what he said?"

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'You're a good man, Michael. Keep taking care of her.'" And with this he gave a big and happy laugh, such as only things like love and wine could do to him. "So I deserve to get drunk! This is a happy occasion!"

And Nema settled against him and nuzzled her face against the tender spot where his neck met his shoulder. "It has been three months, and my father can't be mad at anyone forever."

"The best three months of my whole damn life!" Michael agreed, taking hold of the wine bottle, but allowing Nema to steal a sip before he took more for himself. "So where the Hell were you when I was born, huh? I'll bet my whole life would've been this fucking good if only you were around!"

"Red eyes and all?"

"Red eyes and all." Michael repeated, letting Nema take another sip of the wine. "Seriously, you and me, little angry and insane kids, blowing things up! Would've driven everyone mad, and it would've been the LIFE!"

"But this is fine, too, isn't it? It only took three months to get this all settled… my warriors now have no problems with your men. I have even seen some of the women flirting with your men… a lot of them seem to like Kamael, for some reason."

Michael laughed heartily. "Fucking hilarious. Kamael is completely oblivious to any of that, you know. I think he's a eunuch."

Nema laughed at this and took a final sip of wine, setting the bottle on the desk beside them. "Well that'll be a disappointment for many of those poor girls, won't it?" Her breath stopped in her throat as she felt Michael's hands fly up to cup her face.

"We're not gonna talk about disappointment today…" And he kissed her, like he now had the pleasure of doing for every day of these past three months. In spite of the freedom this red-haired Angel had been allowed to experience for this amount of time, each kiss he gave was not taken for granted, whether it was soft and in passing or hard and passionate. Right now it was very much the latter, and he liked it that way…

But he was never fond of being interrupted, and he had the misfortune of such a thing. It was not even a rude knock… it was an I-Child who had been selected as part of Nema's covert operation to reach Raziel, and, feeling that he was of special rank because of it, simply marched into the room with papers in his hand and a pen placed on his ear. "Nema-sama – Oh! Oh, I… I'm sorry!" He quickly bowed to clear his vision of the skirt hiked up too high, and placed the many papers on the desk. "Here are the things you asked for, Nema-sama."

"Oh, thank you!" She regarded him with a nod, and the I-Child quickly left, before Michael could decide to throw something at him.

"What the fuck is up with people marching in on every room we're in except the bedroom? This is a private room too, dammit! We could be making really big plans in here!" Michael fumed.

"All the decisions we make in here are things they'll hear eventually, though…" Nema reasoned and scanned over a group of papers that had been clipped together. She stopped, reread it, and flipped from the ending page to the front. "… Well that's weird…"

Michael looked down to find the name 'Cheriour' printed several times throughout the sentences on these sheets of paper. "What's that?"

"I wanted to find information on Cheriour regarding his history… But… the earliest records we've got are from around the time that Nyssa's Rebellion began… and considering his age, that would mean he was born with the body of a teenager."

"Angels aren't born that way."

"Well that's what these records imply, though… it's like he just… APPEARED." Nema flipped through the papers one more time and dropped them on the desk. "I'll need to look into that further…" And then she scooped up the second, much smaller group of papers.

Michael watched her face light up. "What is it…?"

Nema bounced twice in his lap. "Negotiations are complete! The Anima Mundi are going to let me in!" She slapped the papers back onto the desk and threw herself onto the Angel she was already on top of. "I'm going to meet Raziel!" She purred against him. "Official preparations start tomorrow…!" And then she couldn't resist poking his dragon-covered cheek. "I won the bet…!"

Michael scoffed. "Feh! You haven't won until Raziel says he'll put an end to your war!"

"You think he won't want to?"

"He might not!"

Nema smirked. "You're just a sore loser. He'll want to end this. It'll be easier on everyone! So, LOSER, what day shall you wear a top hat?"

"How 'bout we hold off on your dandy goth ideas?" Michael said quickly.

"… Oh, I know! I have a birthday coming up, soon!" She enjoyed watching his face go pale.

"But I can't do that, then!"

"Why not?" Nema pouted.

"Because…! I said so!" Michael mumbled. "Besides, you're not gonna have enough TIME!" He suddenly said with a grin. "Considering you need to make preparations for your covert operation ON TOP of battle plans and all the usual work…! HAH! YOU WON'T HAVE TIME FOR IT! Your birthday is the day after tomorrow!"

He watched his Queen glare at him, but by no means was she truly angry. "… I'll make you wear my mini-crown, then."

"NO! NEVER! I'LL DIE FIRST!"

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"… Cheriour-sama. You are safe."

The figure before this Rabbit Hunter said nothing as he sat upon the ground in a shabby little tent, reading over some paperwork.

"… It is assumed you would want to move into another base. Where are we to take you, Cheriour-sama?"

Again, nothing.

"Cheriour-sa –"

"She's going to lose."

"… Excuse me, Cheriour-sama?"

"She thinks she is doing so well… well, then, she may take away as many buildings and followers as she sees fit. But she will not win. I am still here."

"… Should I believe that we are to stay camped out here for the night, Cheriour-sama?"

And then Cheriour's blonde head snapped around to look over his shoulder. "Have I asked for your presense?" He asked placidly, as nearly all of his words were.

"… No… No, you have not. Please forgive me, Cheriour-sama."

But Cheriour was rarely one to forgive, and he brushed back his blonde bangs and said simply, "… No." And then he sent a single shot from a shining pistol into the Rabbit Hunter's chest.

The body flew back and out of the pathetic tent, and two Rabbit Hunters came to his aid, one cradling his neck and shoulders while the other pressed a hand over the bleeding wound.

"I can't…everything is… blurring together…" The wounded Hunter coughed up blood, got some in his eye. "I can't see…"

One Rabbit Hunter tried lifting his upper body, but the head merely rolled forth and moaned. "Are you sure you can't see?"

"I saw…"

"You see? What do you see?"

"… Red –" And then he said no more.

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"Nema, child!" The Queen heard a woman cry. "Your birthday? And you didn't tell me!"

Nema looked over her shoulder and beamed at who she saw. "And my surrogate Uncle never told you?"

Alexiel rolled her dark eyes and handed Nema a bundle wrapped in white cloth. "Men can't be trusted to tell women information as they always assume that women already know everything. But as it was, I had been making you a gift, anyway. So how old are you now?"

Nema began to undo the knot holding the fabric together. "Seventeen in Assiah's years."

"You're still so young…! I am too used to being around people who have lived at LEAST to 100 or so. I am so old…"

"But you look beautiful, anyway. Uncle Lucifer wouldn't allow you to get old even if that was an issue, you know. The lusty part of him wouldn't like it."

Alexiel laughed, light shining off the dark waves of her hair. "You flatter me. And another thing, Nema, dear. You should refrain from referring to Lucifer as your uncle. I hope that one day your relation to him will change."

Nema only arched a pale brow up at the Dark Queen and finished unwrapping her gift. And then her ruby eyes widened in glee.

It was a corset, constructed of white satin, brocaded with images of equally-white wisps of flower petals and falling feathers, laced with shining white ribbon and accented along its edges with dainty white lace. It was so much more beautiful than anything Nema could think of creating herself, and after remembering to breathe, she'd cooed, "This is wonderful… you made this?"

"You like it, then." Alexiel merely said. "You don't need to flatter me. That is a basic underbust corset pattern, isn't it? It's only the fabrics that make it seem so flashy."

"I'm not flattering you. This is almost store-bought quality…!"

"Well, now, don't be too shocked, really…! You have been a seamstress for far longer than I have!"

"I don't practice corsetry." Nema replied softly, running her hands down the firm seams. "… Is this steel-boned?"

A small and teasing smile crossed the Organic Angel's lips. "Would you be amused if I told you that the boning of your corset is made from the dulled-down blades of old and no longer used swords?"

And the Violent Queen did find this amusing. "You used things that spilled blood to form a corset that's as white as an innocent wedding dress? You and Uncle Lucifer are big fans of irony, aren't you?"

"Again, I remind you to refrain from calling him your Uncle. Much more fitting you think of him as a brother-in-law. If you understand what I am implying."

"What are you implying…?"

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"Oh, look who I have found, making a loner of himself. Is that intended to add to your impossibly mysterious persona?" The icy voice said mockingly, teasingly.

And the owner of this voice knew exactly how this other man would respond. Such was the natural gift of being a twin brother… however different they may have been in all other respects. "Fuck you! Nema's got a party going on, and she likes you and all! Go entertain her!"

"Oh, but she is being entertained enough with Alexiel and the gift she gave her. A beautiful corset. You will think Nema is gorgeous when she wears it for you."

Michael mumbled something, but Lucifer only caught the words, "always is." It was enough.

"And why isn't my dear little brother entertaining my little niece?"

"Because I don't NEED to! And she's not your damn niece! Stop calling her your niece!" The Fire Angel sent the Dark King several mental daggers.

As usual, Lucifer was not affected by the anger thrown at him. "She will be my niece until another event should cause that to change. Little Mika."

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!" Michael quickly snapped. "You think because I'm with your so-called niece, it's okay to strike up conversations with me? You fucking tried to kill me because of her! You threatened to do so if I didn't stay away her! And now you're all… SMILES with me? Fuck you… brother."

But Lucifer only suppressed a quiet laugh. "Still so bitter with me. Aren't you?"

"I have lots of reasons to be bitter with you."

"Oh, but it was so long ago… All of that mess…"

"Shut up."

"I have told you before… that in many ways that was just fate. But it can change now, dear little brother. Prince of Light."

Michael tensed, but bit back the swear words he'd had lined up for his brother. "… Shut up." He repeated quietly.

And Lucifer decided that was enough, for now. The quiet admission was a progression, however small, and Lucifer wasn't going to assume that winning Michael's brotherly camaraderie was an easy process. "… Now, then. May I ask as to what my dear little brother has gotten my niece for her birthday?"

"I didn't GET her anything. I TOOK her somewhere."

"Oh? And where to?"

"Harajuku. Why?" Michael muttered quickly.

"That's rather brave and dangerous. Traveling there, during wartime."

But this made Michael grin. "It was great! All those fucking Rabbit Hunters chased us all the way there and through half of Tokyo, or damn near it! But we got 'em ALL, because we fucking rock!"

"Then Nema enjoyed your gift?"

"Feh! Yeah!" Michael's smirk lit up his features. "… We did that lot back when we were stuck down there. Every Sunday night."

"It was a weekly date." Lucifer smiled.

"It was a GAME." Michael was quick to reply. "It wasn't like I gave her flowers and we ate dinner in a fancy place and kicked some ass, and then finished it off with a kiss. Okay? I'm not that fluffy."

This time the Dark King let out a long laugh. "Only you could consider kicking ass in an otherwise normal date to be 'fluffy', as you so term it. Regardless, that is a thoughtful gift for her."

Michael only shrugged. After a pause he muttered, "… So aren't you gonna go talk to Nema?"

"I have already spoken with her, and I would like to speak with you."

Again, Michael paused. "… Yeah, well you've spoken."

"Goodness, that's cold of you."

"Well what the fuck do you NEED to talk to me about?" The Fire Angel snapped.

"Oh, just an uncle's concern for his niece."

"For the last fucking time, she's not your niece! If you call her that again, I'll kill you!"

"Will you?" Lucifer simply allowed his lips to curl into an icy sort of smile, one that told Michael he wasn't taking him seriously. "And if she is not my niece… what is she?"

"She's…" Michael shrugged again. "I don't know. That's a fucking weird question, anyway."

"… May I consider her my sister-in-law?"

"WHY IS EVERYBODY GOING OFF ABOUT THAT?" Michael snarled. "She's not your sister-in-law. Get over it."

Lucifer merely chuckled. "But only my dear Queen and I have ever referred to her as our sister-in-law."

"… So?"

"So I think you are acting particularly defensive for someone who doesn't want Nema to be considered my niece OR my sister-in-law."

"Well that's 'cause she's neither! Setsuna's not your brother, and Nema's not MY daughter, so she can't be your fucking niece! And she can't be your sister-in-law until- unless I marry her." Michael became preoccupied with the black sleeves of the shirt he more or less shared with Nema, now.

The air around him grew far too quiet… and when he dared to look up out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Lucifer grinning. "… Oh, I never thought you would be capable to loving a lady so much." He spoke lightly, almost dreamily, and it disgusted Michael to see the ever-icy Devil himself speak in such a way.

"Just shut your mouth!" Michael hissed. "It's not any of your business who I love or how much I love that person!"

Lucifer ignored those words. "When are you going to ask for her hand in marriage?"

Michael stuttered. "… I… I didn't MEAN it like that, idiot! M-my… words slipped, that's all! It's not even a thought in my mind, that whole marriage thing!"

"But you do love her?"

"What of it?" Michael said defensively.

"And you would never wish to leave her, yes…? That idea… does it hurt you, at all? If for whatever reason you were at odds with Nema, you wouldn't let her go, would you? Or is my little brother's heart not that selfless… and would you let her go because it was easier on you… even if it hurt her?"

"YOU WILL NEVER SAY THAT SHIT TO ME AGAIN!" Michael yelled, "DON'T TALK LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT WE'VE BEEN THROUGH! YOU DON'T!"

"But you know that I have spent many years of my life following after Alexiel… because I could not let her go. Because I love her. I think… that in my own way… I do have an idea of the ways you may have felt during that rough patch you went through."

Michael said nothing.

"… And you love her?"

"I love her."

"And you would never wish to leave her."

"I'd try my fucking hardest to avoid it."

"… Then, my brother, why not marry the girl?"

Again, Michael was silent. After a long pause he muttered. "… You know we've only really been together for a few months, right?"

"You were together for longer than that… however twisted that time might have been, you see."

"… We can't get married."

"Oh, yes you can…!" Lucifer smirked.

"You know, I don't SEE any fucking weddings chapels around these parts! Seems like marriage is a little, you know, ILLEGAL."

"But I can always arrange for certain ceremonies down in Hell."

"I don't want to get married in Hell! I want to get married HERE!"

Now Lucifer said nothing, watching the look fall over Michael's face. Ever sly with trickery, the Dark King had drawn out the very innermost secret the Fire Angel currently held. "… I will keep my offer open, for you… my dear little brother."

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Nema blushed wildly. "Oh, I can't get married!"

"And why not? Every day I wish so much that you will become my sister-in-law…!" Alexiel smiled down at her.

"But you could just… THINK of me as your sister-in-law. That's enough for now, isn't it?"

"Not really." The Organic Angel said simply.

"… Well, marriage isn't important, you see."

"It isn't?"

"No. I am in love, and love's enough. I don't need rings and veils if the love is there."

"But you have thought about it, haven't you?" Alexiel smiled as the Queen paused. "Dressed in white, walking down the aisle… and he's looking at you with that face that just screams that he loves you, and he's proud of you, and he wants to be bound to you until he dies."

Nema couldn't really think of anything to say and began picking at the lacing of the white corset. "… That's a pretty picture…"

"Certainly it is."

"… It's not one I need. Even if… I like it."

"… Oh dear." Alexiel said softly. "I've made you feel bad."

"Oh, not at all!" Nema quickly shook her head. "… I have too much to consider before I decide to think of what I want for myself… that's all. I have a war to run, and a man I need to talk to, and I am currently trying to get started on a project for a memorial for all the warriors who were KIA. I have too many things to do… and love is enough, really. … Besides, Michael is not the type to be married."

"You don't think so?"

"No, not really."

"Does Lucifer seem like the type?"

Nema blinked at this plain question. "… Well, he IS married."

"But that doesn't mean that he seems to be the type. The truth is that I had never expected to be wed to the Dark King… he seemed much too cold, however much he may have been attracted to me, you see. But he sought me out quickly. We must have been married… No later than a month after we had been together without troubles."

"A month!"

"A month." Alexiel merely repeated. "So you see, it doesn't matter if he doesn't seem like the type. It only matters if the love is there. And you said it yourself. The love is there." Her dark eyes lifted to the I-Child standing before them. "Yes?"

"… Most of the guests have gone home now, so I thought it would be all right to bring this to you… Nema-sama." The I-Child gave Nema a box that was not even wrapped… A dark, worn music box, it seemed to be, small enough to hold only a few pictures or letters, not much more.

"… A present?" Nema asked, glad that at least for now, the strange and touchy subject had been averted.

"In a way… We found this among the things we had taken out of Lilliel's room."

"… Oh."

"We thought it fitting to bring it to you, as there seems to be a letter for you inside it."

"… Oh?" Nema repeated, this time with the tones of curiosity. And Alexiel shooed the I-Child away as Nema opened the box and let the strange, soft melody begin to play. It was melancholic and made Nema feel lonely, and yet the little song made her feel hopeful as well. "… I remember this song…"

"This is an old song… I remember listening to it often, when I was much younger… it is a song about purity, yet I couldn't help but think it was a sad song, regardless." Alexiel nodded.

"… Rujiel sometimes let this play for Lilliel overnight… it helped her sleep better." And with this Nema stood, holding the corset and the music box against her.

"Does the birthday girl want to read the letter in private?" Alexiel smiled in understanding and nodded again. "Be on your way… sister-in-law."

Nema shook her head, but she smiled, nonetheless. "Marriage… is going to wait. … Thank you for the gift."

"You're welcome." With this the Organic Angel watched Nema leave, the soft music trailing behind her and lingering in Alexiel's ears. So Nema didn't believe Michael was the type to want marriage… Well, that was logical enough, but logic and love were two very different things. And though Nema claimed that she did not need a ceremony to bind her to her Fiery Angel, it had been apparent that she did still enjoy the idea. Alexiel wondered if Nema did take the time to dream of a wedding… well, then she hoped that if Nema stepped down the aisle, she would be wearing the corset Alexiel had made. She had meant for it to be a part of a bridal outfit… though she had not told Nema this.

"And where is Nema, now?" The familiar, cool voice inquired of her.

And Alexiel looked up at her Dark King, smiling as she watched his little brother trudging along behind him with a scowl on his face and an absorbed look in his blue-green eyes. "She received a present that she wished to look at in private."

"Did she enjoy the corset?"

Alexiel was prepared for this question. "She appreciates the corset. However, she does not believe that there will be a proper occasion during which she may wear it."

"Oh, really?"

"I do believe that she wants to wear the corset very badly, however."

Lucifer smiled and nodded. "I see."

Michael watched as the pair nodded at each other, and was no fool. He realized, rather quickly, that they were speaking in some kind of code they had prepared before they came to Nema's little party. "Hey, why don't you fucking stop meddling!" He snapped and rushed off.

"… Are we pushing this too much?" Alexiel asked as she took Lucifer's hand.

"We are pushing it just enough." He said smoothly, brushed a kiss over her hand and brought her to her feet.

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_Dear diary,_

_Today I saw Rujiel talking with Nyssa again. I think Rujiel still really really likes her, but everybody knows that Nyssa's not the same anymore. I would say that she's nuts, but Nema told me not to say those things about her. I asked her why, and I still remember what Nema said:_

"_Life and love are two very cruel things. They do unimaginable things to people and can cause enough pain to destroy the spirit. It doesn't matter if you believe that Nyssa's stories about Cheriour are the truth or are delusions she makes for herself. If they are true, then Nyssa deserves to state the truth, because that is all that's left for her. And if she really is just lying to herself, then we owe it to her to not treat her like she is pathetic. She isn't. She's stronger than you think, because both life and love twisted her into who she is now, and she's still breathing. So many would have killed themselves by now."_

_Yup, I remember it word for word. I always remember the things Nema says. She reminds me of mother. Mother never yelled at me or anything, but she always taught me a lot, and that's what Nema does, too. I miss mother. Rujiel says I should stop trying to get him to ask Nema to marry him, because all I want is a mother replacement. I don't think that's true, though. I do want mother back and all, but I just think that Nema would be a great older sister, and I think she's good for him. I think Rujiel should try to move on and stop wanting Nyssa so bad. I think that it would stop making him so sad._

_That's one of the first things I liked about Nema. She makes him happy. He smiles a lot after spending the day with her… of course, then he has to visit Nyssa, and then he comes back looking lonely. He always visits Nyssa before he goes to bed. I don't know if Nema knows that. I kinda want to tell her, but then she might think Rujiel is doing bad things and he's not, because I see it. He just wishes her goodnight and and she just kinda nods at him. I think even if he wanted to do bad things, Nyssa wouldn't let him 'cause she's always too lonely to really think about that._

_Rujiel says that Nyssa was a lot like Nema before the Rebellion. I don't really see how that's possible, but I wasn't alive back then, so I guess I wouldn't know. If Nyssa was like Nema, then it would be fine if Rujiel asked her to marry him. But then I would feel bad for Nema, 'cause I think she would be very lonely. You know what? I think Nema is lonely all the time, even with Rujiel around. Sometimes when no one's really paying attention to her she gets this look on her face like she's thinking about someone else. I heard that before she came to Heaven she'd been in love with her Guardian Angel, but then he became a Rabbit Hunter and broke her heart. Boy, that isn't very nice at all. The White Wings just keep hurting everyone around me and I don't like it. Not one bit. I heard somewhere that her Guardian Angel was Michael-sama. That would be really weird…! I always thought Michael-sama was very scary. They say that he hates everyone, especially girls, so I have no idea how he ever fell in love with Nema. But if even HE managed to like her, even for just a little bit, that must be saying something about Nema, right? That's almost like a real romantic dream, isn't it? I want to be like Nema when I grow up, and fall in love with a "bad guy" like she did. I don't want my heart broken or anything, but I think it would be really cool to make a "bad guy" become a "good guy" 'cause he loved me so much. I think that would make me feel very special. I bet Nema felt special._

… Three pages. Lilliel had torn three pages out of her diary and put them in this music box.

Nema couldn't really figure out why these three pages had been put into the envelope with her name on it, other than Lilliel thought these pages about Nema were too personal for her diary and had labeled the envelope with her name because this entry was about her. Yes, it was about Rujiel and Nyssa, too, and even a little bit about MICHAEL, but most of it was about Nema. How Lilliel had looked up to Nema, and adored Nema, and wanted to be Nema.

It frightened her how the idle thoughts of this little girl were so true to what had been going on around her. Rujiel HAD still loved Nyssa. And Nema HAD sometimes slipped into lonely and idle daydreams about Michael. And Lilliel had somehow even fathomed the truth about her relationship with Michael… how Nema had been able to bring out the kinder parts of the ruthless Angel Michael was well-known for being.

Nema hadn't felt the tears that had begun to flow down her face until she saw one hit the final page, just above Michael's name. That innocent and yet incredibly intuitive little girl… Nema had adored her, too. Nema had grown to love her like a little sister, that was true. Though she had never thought of marrying Rujiel, that kinship with Lilliel had been quickly formed. And really, Nema was sure that if life had played out differently for Nyssa, and she had married Rujiel, Nema would still have developed that kind of bond with that curly-haired, pink-eyed girl.

And suddenly Nema found herself wishing that Rujiel had married Nyssa… For she was sure that if only life could have displayed just a little more mercy… they would have been a truly beautiful and inseparable couple.

Couples. Marriage. Now, even in Lilliel's diary entry, that word was springing up to greet the Violent Queen.

Did she want to get married? One day. Nema was in no hurry. With so much on her plate, she couldn't afford to think of marriage…

And when the war was done? If she had won?

She was still in no hurry. Even without the war to keep her busy, she would, without a doubt, have to wait for Michael to come around. … Well, she wasn't sure if Michael ever would come around to that kind of idea. It hardly seemed to be something Michael would want… and if that was the case, Nema would give that up for him.

… She instantly hated the way the words had formed in her head, and sniffled back her tears. It made it seem so negative, somehow… giving up marriage because Michael didn't seem to be the type for it…

"Ah, Hell… She made you CRY? That's it. I'll fucking kill 'em…"

Nema immediately smiled and laughed, her voice a little broken. "No…" She turned and showed the man who had entered her room the papers in her hand. "It's a letter… from Lilliel."

Nema watched the features on Michael's face soften slightly as he nodded. "… That little girl."

"Rujiel's little sister." Nema nodded with him, and then put the pages back in the envelope. "… Something she wrote in her diary a while ago… about how she looked up to me."

The Archangel came up to stand beside her as she sat in her chair, facing the music box that she put on her windowsill, letting the soft notes flow out into the air, haunting, sad, uplifting, all at once. He watched her cross her arms on the smooth wood of this window in her new room, above ground for once, and rested her pale chin on her equally pale arms. And she seemed to drift, even though he was standing next to her, losing herself in some daydream… probably about Lilliel and Rujiel and that green-eyed I-Child that was named Nyssa. And that was fine, however removed from that life Michael may have been. Nema had told him of all three of them before… of the mess that was her relationship with Rujiel, and the awkward alliance she'd briefly shared with Nyssa, and even of her sisterly bond with Lilliel. And Michael was not a part of any of that, but that was something he had brought on himself. At least Nema was honest enough to share with him the events of her life while they had gone through their own elaborate mess. And then she began to softly sing with the melody in the air, though she did not know the words, and merely supplied each note with a 'la'. Michael wanted to laugh at her. And then he did, but Nema only kept singing and flipped him off. And then he merely returned the favor, and neither were truly offended.

It was hard to be offended by her, now. Michael realized he loved her too much for that to happen, though he could act plenty annoyed, and he could still pick a fight with her at nearly any moment and she would readily comply. And that, of course, was another reason why he loved her. "… This is an old song…" He commented after they had smirked at each other long enough.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me…"

"Something about purity…"

"That's what I hear, too." Nema sighed and propped her chin on her arms again. "… Alexiel made me a corset."

"I heard."

"… It's over there." Nema motioned with a slight jerk of her snowy head. Michael turned and crossed the room, stopping at the vanity to see the white and softly shining corset. He observed the seams, the lace, the brocaded satin, the soft ribbons, and the firm boning, though these weren't things he was actually interested in. This was a corset made with marriage in mind. THAT was something Michael couldn't shake out of his head.

"… I love you."

Michael blinked and tensed. Nema was infamous for surprise 'I love you's. Sometimes she said them while they were training… and what was sad was that it was actually a very good trick of hers. It got him every time. It got him right now, even. "… Love you." He replied after a pause.

"I love you a lot."

Well, that was new… "Ditto."

He looked over his shoulder to see that she has sat up and was toying with the edges of the music box that continued to play, though it was finally starting to slow down. "I'll love you no matter what. I don't care if… I don't know, whatever happens or whatever doesn't happen. No matter what. I'd give up things if that meant that at least you'd still love me."

It wasn't like Nema to really be this wordy unless something was troubling her, and Michael knew what it was. Damn those two meddling fools and their damn ideas…! "I know Alexiel talked to you."

This time Nema tensed. "… She's so Hellbent on things. I mean, it's not any of their business, right?"

"Right! That's what I'm saying!" Michael agreed heartily. "Her and Lucifer, they should just knock it off!"

"Yeah, exactly!" Moonlight washed down her hair and she nodded rapidly. "Why do they care what we have planned?"

"Yeah!" Michael's voice rose. "If we get married it's not gonna be because THEY said so! It's because I'll ask you, 'Hey, wanna get married?' and then you'd either say no –"

"Or yes!" They said in unison.

"Yeah!" Michael gave one firm nod.

"… Yeah." Nema nodded with him. She listened to him kick off his boots and fall onto their bed.

"I'll tell 'em. They're making us all… stressed out. We can't be stressed out. We've got a war to win."

Nema made a big show of yawning and nodding, burying her face in her arms.

"Nema."

"… Yeah?"

"I love you."

The music box played two more notes before it finally stopped, and Nema closed it and brought it with her as she got ready for bed, saying nothing until she was pressed against his frame. "… No matter what."

Some time in the middle of the night, Michael finally stirred. He'd never fallen asleep, but he'd watched Nema fall deep into whatever dreams awaited her, clinging onto him like she always did… really, it was almost desperate they way she held on. Like she needed to feel permanently bound to him…

He shook the damned idea from his head and reached over her and began winding up the music box, and then he opened it and let the melody fill his ears. And he fell asleep that way, with that strange, sad and happy song washing away all those words and that damned idea from his head.

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AUTHORESS NOTE: So… much… working…! They've given me many more hours in light of our coworkers quitting… And often times I come home and I end up passing out and leaving the Impyness in my head… Which is a horrible thing, I know. Regardless, I've gone along and finally finished this chapter! It's so long, isn't it? Well, that's fine. Maybe that makes up for how long it took to get this done… I hope so!


	36. Chapter 36

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty Six_

By: Brenli

When she woke up that morning, her music box was wide open, as it had been for the past few mornings. It was not customary for Michael to be the first to rise… but for reasons beyond Nema, he had been restless. He never told her why, and she didn't press the matter, though she was beginning to wonder if she should. She stirred, sat up and stretched, then looked into the music box to find, as she had the past few mornings, a note placed on top of the diary pages-turned-letter from Lilliel. She could not, for the life of her, figure out what compelled him to leave these morning notes for her. She thought they were sweet because he took the time to carefully draw them out in kanji, but not something normal for him.

The first note was, "Sorry." She'd asked him why, and he claimed it was because he'd left her to sleep alone because he couldn't go back to sleep.

The second note was, "Love you." And she'd teased him about not being man enough to tell it to her face, but then he'd shrugged it off and got quiet.

Today's note said, "Be safe." And she understood this perfectly. He was unconvinced that this covert operation of hers… to contact Raziel… was completely foolproof. "He won't trust you. You know that? You've been ripping people apart without lifting a finger, Nema. As fucking awesome as that is, that's gotta scare the shit out of him. HE'S the one that let the Rabbit Hunting go unchecked." He'd often grumbled at her.

"So?" She'd always whine childishly.

"So if he's gonna watch his own back, he'll write the whole fucking meeting off as an assassination attempt! And if his Anima Mundi guardsmen suddenly turn right around and attack you, you better come out of it without a scratch on you! I won't forgive you, if you don't!" He always became remarkably childish right back at her, but beneath the snarls and the sharp eyes lurked a great mountain of worry… and she'd never noticed it before… how high-strung Michael could easily become.

"… You worry too much about me." She'd always reply quietly.

This morning, Nema shook her head and folded the note in half, slipping it onto the strap that held a sharp dagger against her left thigh. As she let the soft layers of her petticoat and her black skirt fall over the weapon, she searched for a mini-crown, found it and carefully tied it under her pale chin.

There was a knock on the door, and she called out, "Yes?"

"Nema-sama… the Anima Mundi members are ready to escort you via the underground tunnels to your destination."

"I'm almost ready." The Queen finished tying up her right boot and opened the door. "… Where is Michael?"

"Michael-sama is not on these grounds."

"Really?"

"I would not lie. He left very early in the morning. He said that he would be visiting Raphael."

"Oh." Nema nodded and put aside the momentary disappointment. She had more important things to do, as it was. Today, she would be making the trip to Raziel… she would finally meet the ruler of all Heaven, the I-Child who denied his identity as a Rabbit and even went so far as to reprogram God to maintain some semblance of the old Heaven that the Angels had become much too comfortable with to let go. And she would speak with him and convince him to end the war, and the oppression, and ultimately the reprogramming of God. She would convince him to destroy the old Heaven everyone so loved, but she would do it for the greater good… for the creation of a new Heaven that everyone would love so much more.

It all happens today.

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"Raphael."

"Michael? Hey…" The Wind Angel yawned over the phone. "It's so early… Is something wrong or…?"

"No. If Nema calls you, tell her I'm with you guys. If she wants to talk to me, tell her I'm talking to Uriel and I can't talk to her right now."

"… Why?"

"Say you'll do it."

"… I guess I will, but why?"

"No reason. … Hey, Raphael?"

"… Mmmph?" Raphael mumbled, already falling back asleep.

"So Nema's gonna win the war."

"… How do you know?"

"BECAUSE WE FUCKING KICK ASS! WHAT KIND OF STUPID QUESTION IS THAT?"

"Okay, okay!" Raphael cringed as Michael yelled at him.

"… So when Nema wins, are you gonna marry Barbiel?"

"… I'd like to."

"Why?"

"… What?"

"Why do you wanna marry her? Like… how do you know when you really do, for sure, wanna marry that person?"

"… Well, I love her. I guess… that's all the reason I need."

"… Mmm."

"… Is everything okay over there, Michael? You sound nervous…"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Are you sure…?"

"Yeah. Gotta go."

"… Wait, what's going on?"

"Bye!"

"… Bye?" Raphael responded to the dial tone that rang into his ear, and hung up his phone, burying his face into his pillow. "Weird…"

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Lights were strung up above the heads of Nema and her band of I-Child Anima Mundi members as they marched on down the long, wide tunnel leading to Raziel. On each side of her were straight lines of White Wing Anima Mundi members, regarding her with regal, stoic faces, holding bayonets at their sides. Nema thought nothing of this. These men were supporters of an I-Child, and therefore were nothing for her to fear.

Save for the footsteps, the journey was silent. The lights were bright, and Nema felt more like she was already in a vast building, walking through the basement level… the lamps swung now and then, the effect of what were perhaps military vehicles rolling over the dirt above them. Still she pressed on, wondering when she would finally get there, and could move above ground. She wondered if he would be at the end of the tunnel, ready to greet her. She wondered if he'd be a warm, approachable person, or if he'd be colder, businesslike. And she wondered if they'd talk for a short while, or if it would be a long and difficult debate to get what she wanted.

She stopped in her tracks as a lamp fell and shattered before her. She took several strides forward to look, and was shocked to feel herself get pulled and thrown back into her thick ring of guards. "Nema-sa –" The cry was cut short by a bullet through the head… a bullet from a White Wing bayonet… a bullet meant for her.

And she was quickly swept up in the chaos as all of the White Wings rushed into the tight ring of Rabbits, both sides shooting and scrambling. What was this madness? A trap? A TRAP? Nema quickly took the dagger from its hiding spot under her skirts gave a White Wing arm a warning slash along the forearm, but when that didn't work, she ruptured the whole limb, watching the skin tear and the blood flow and spurt in strange waves in the air.

This didn't make any sense at all…! Raziel was an I-CHILD! There was no way he deliberately did this…! Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong… But for now, she wouldn't think of the injustice of this situation. She was stuck in a trap, a very sticky one, with no idea as to how outnumbered she was… watching blood wash over everyone in this tangled mess that reminded her too much of the Holy Blood battle, only now it was already surrounded by earth on all sides.

That's it, then. Her covert operation was called off. "EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" Nema called bravely as she ruptured the bayonet that tried to skewer her left thigh, feeling the blade catch the fabric of her skirts and tear them open. She watched as Michael's note of the morning floated off and settled on a dead Rabbit's body, only to be stepped on by the White Wing's boot. And with that she cried, "THE MISSION IS CANCELLED! FIGHT YOUR WAY OUT! LET NO ONE STOP YOU!" And she charged in her own direction, stabbing and rupturing her way on to Raziel, regardless of this treachery.

So much for being safe.

She tore on, the blade of her dagger catching fabric and skin and flesh, and now and then piercing the heart of an attacker. Simultaneously, bodies exploded around her. She ran past flying limbs and slivers of skin. A rib cage nearly landed on her head, but she batted it away. She nearly swam through the waves of blood, and while all this happened, bullets meant for her got lodged into the stray body parts. A few caught and tore at Nema's poor skirt and petticoat. One bullet rushed through the softness of her wildly flowing hair.

She felt a sudden and sharp knock on the back of her head, and she fell, her dagger slipping out of her hands. And she expected to be shot at and killed. And she knew that Michael wouldn't forgive her for believing this dream would work… yes, this time around, Nema had dreamt too big.

But when she felt an uncomfortable warmth flowing around her, like carefully managed flames that dodged her. She blinked her eyes to try to get them to focus, and saw shades of red, orange, and gold. And then she felt two hands gripping her and lifting her to her feet. "I TOLD YOU. YOU OWE ME."

It was Michael… Running in to save the day, like the Guardian Angel he should have been, once.

There was no time to wonder why, or to admire him. She continued pressing onward, and this time, the sea of ruptured bodies she pushed through were interspersed with the waves of flame that her Fiery Angel shot forth to protect her. "I HOPE YOU'VE LEARNED YOUR LESSON, NEMA! YOU CAN'T TRUST THE HEAD OF THE GOVERNMENT!"

"You have no faith in me!" Nema snapped as she passed through what remained of a torso she had ruptured to save herself from being stabbed through her face.

"I have PLENTY of faith in you!" Michael pulled her back just long enough to brush a bloodied kiss over her bloodied cheek, and then pushed her to the end of the tunnel. "I never had faith in THEM!"

With her body nearly pressed against the door, Nema looked over her shoulder to see that Michael stood in front her, his feet firmly planted, his body good and ready to charge into the fiery tunnel and the bodies that continued rushing at him. His arms moved quickly to unbind his mighty sword from his back, and there he continued to stand, his sword in hand and ready to reach through the fire and slice into any who dared to come closer.

And when he took a short moment to look back at her, he seemed ready to die for her and damn near happy to do it. "I hope you kick Raziel's ass for this. God knows I WANT TO! NOW GO!"

Nema gave him a firm nod and found the door locked, so she ruptured the thick wood and metal and ran through the slivers, rushing forward because that was the only direction that she was comfortable with… she still had no idea where Raziel himself could be.

She ran. She took a flight of stairs up to the next floor. What was this place? Hallways and doors, just a lot of hallways and doors! She passed a picture of what looked like Raziel at a younger age, standing next to a tall man with glasses and the appearance of a cheerful priest. She would have admired that picture if she didn't feel like she was on the verge of being attacked again.

"… Oh Lord! She made it through!"

Nema's head snapped toward the sound. It was two guards, two White Wing Anima Mundi members, standing like soldiers at either side of a door.

Well… if that wasn't a dead giveaway…

So she slipped her Angel Crystal earring from her ear and felt it shift and morph into her indestructible sword, and decapitated one while rupturing the chest of the other. And now, tired and bloody and sick of this betrayal, Nema went ahead and forced the door into wooden shards, not caring if the door had been locked or not.

And then a gasp left her throat as she felt the blade of her own sword press against the delicate, white flesh of her neck. How was this happening…? She… couldn't move her arm! It might as well have been possessed… she couldn't make it move… the more she tried, the blade pressed into her, until her skin began to give way. She quit struggling.

There was a desk and a tall, important-looking chair. This chair spun around, and she watched him stand, his hair layered and golden, his eyes glowing red, his skin with the healthy and normal glow that so few other I-Children ever could dream to have… and his wings… his impossibly white wings… the thing that made it easy for him to deny his identity as a Rabbit… She was staring face to face with Raziel.

"If you dare to make my head pop open, I WILL return the favor."

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Michael didn't stop to breathe, even for a mere second. God, Raziel must've been scared out of his mind or something… Michael had counted 20 dead by his own hand… And then, of course, there were the various body parts that Michael couldn't count even if he tried, courtesy of Nema. Nema had been so sure of herself, that she had only brought along 10 people to guard and escort her. He hoped that, for her sake, most of them had come out of this mess alive.

See, that was one of those differences between Nema and himself. If Michael was to be considered reckless, then Nema was easily much worse than he. Of course, in a way, that was one of the many reasons he loved her. Her wildness made her brave and undeniably fun. But then she did things like this… and risked her life, as if she had several more lives lined up for her if she lost one. In some sense Michael would quietly admit to himself that he admired that kind of selfless bravery, but for the most part it drove him mad.

It WASN'T like she could expect to always get away with being so lucky. Truly she was lucky little Rabbit… but that didn't mean that she was immune to death. What if she died and her body was never found? What if she was Wing Cut? These two fates could still apply to her. And bless her for being brave enough to push on in spite of those fates, but… Michael fucking loved her, dammit! Those weren't fates he wanted for her. And it was only for this sole reason that he, for once in his long life, wished she'd be more reasonable. If not for her sake, then for his. For his, dammit!

He let out a frustrated yell and made a clean slice through the middle of one last White Wing Anima Mundi member. At least, he was assuming it was the last… because he waited for fifteen minutes, and no one charged through the flames that Michael had spread throughout the tunnel. Not really registering the heat, he allowed his mind to wander a little. His Violent Queen had looked pretty bloody… 'course, that didn't mean much, considering her methods of murder… she often came out of battle literally bathed in blood. Her clothing was pretty torn up, too… Thing was, Nema never cared much about that. He tried to think of any wounds she had endured while she was in the tunnel… None that he could really think of, except for maybe some bruises, a minor scrape here or there, and possibly a nasty bump on the head from when she'd been knocked to the ground.

And yet he was sure that the next time he saw her, which would be soon, she would still look beautiful to him, however bloody and torn she might have been… But he did still like her best when she was freshly cleaned up, her snow white hair and her equally pale skin all soft and warm. And for some reason he was extra attentive when she wore white.

… Not… for any REAL reason. Just… because.

_How do you know when you really do, for sure, wanna marry that person?_

_I love her. That's all the reason I need._

He wasn't really sure why he had asked that question. He decided to blame Lucifer for it. But really, how do people know for sure… that the one they believe they love most is the one they ought to marry? What kind of… guidelines… were there, to something like that?

Raphael loved Barbiel and believed that was reason enough to marry her. Was it, really? Was that… all there was to it?

'Cause then… well…

No, nevermind! God damn Lucifer and his fucking mouth! Damn snake! Michael was gonna beat his fucking head in!

Marriage wasn't something he needed. It wasn't something Nema needed, either. Did he think about it? Sure…! He'd even dreamt about it. Nema was wearing one of her fancy little dresses, all white and beautiful, with a veil flowing down from a white mini-crown. And yeah… he was wearing a top hat. Only because SHE wanted him to! But it was fine, really. And it was a really nice dream and all… It's just that he didn't need it.

And then Michael wondered if ANYONE ever really NEEDED to get married, truly. He called Raphael. "Hey."

"Michael? I was thinking about your call earlier today. I swear you sounded very nervous. Are you –"

"Do people ever need to get married?"

"… What?"

"Does anyone really NEED to get married…? I mean… is it a necessity… or something?"

"… See, there you go with this marriage talk again!"

"Just answer my damn question!"

"Are you going to propose to Nema?" Raphael asked bluntly.

"NO!" Michael suddenly fumed. "I'M NOT GONNA! NEMA AND I ALREADY TALKED ABOUT THAT STUFF, ANYWAY! WE'RE NOT GETTING MARRIED!"

"… Then why are you so curious?"

"Because I CAN be!"

The Wind Angel sighed over the phone. "… Well no one ever NEEDS to get married. I'm sure people make up excuses for why they NEED to… like… financial security… or family honor… or whatever other excuses people in Assiah have made. But the truth is no one NEEDS to get married."

"THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT!" Michael beamed.

"Well that's not what marriage is about, anyway. It's not about needing to. It's supposed to be about WANTING to. The only time need enters the picture is in regards to how much you NEED the person you WANT to marry."

"… It's not about needing to." The statement rolled from his mouth.

"No. I don't think so."

"… Marriage is so fucking confusing! I don't understand how anyone would WANT something that's so fucking weird!"

"It's not confusing!" Raphael had an idea. "Where do you see yourself five years from now? Ten? Twenty? And just because we happen to get away with it, where do you see yourself 100 years from now?"

"I don't know. Here?"

"With Nema?"

"That's not even a real question! Idiot! We'll always be together! Even the DUMBEST people know that!"

"… Now, do you remember how you felt when you were a Rabbit Hunter?"

"What does THAT have to do with anything?" Michael snapped.

"Do you remember?"

"… It fucking sucked. Why?"

"Was it because she wasn't near you? Was it because you were hurting her, and driving her further away at almost every turn? And did it hurt you because you needed her to be happy and near you?"

"… I guess so." Michael mumbled.

"Could you imagine if it was still like that?"

"I don't WANT to imagine that."

"Because you know that it's the worst thing that could happen. Because you need her. You love her and need her, and you want to be with her for as long as you breathe."

Michael wasn't sure what to say. After a while he muttered, "… So?"

"So that's it."

"… That's what?"

"That's the marriage ceremony. It's you and her making a public announcement that you love and need each other, and want to be together for as long as you breathe. That's it! So you see, you are as good as 'married' to Nema, anyway! So if you don't want to have a marriage ceremony, who cares? And if you do, that's fine, too. Drinks all around."

"… I'm as good as married to her, anyway…"

"I'd say you are."

"… Well… I have to go make sure Nema's okay."

"Are you going to propose to her?" Raphael tried again.

"THAT'S NOT ANY OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!"

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"Stop it. Raziel… I will put down my sword if you stop it."

Nema watched as the Angel before her stood before her, eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, placing his palms firmly against the wood of his desk. "… I don't trust you."

"Have I given you any reason not to trust me?" Nema drew in her breath as she felt the blade of her sword gently open up her tender skin. "If you ask me I've got the RIGHT to finish you off!"

"What have I done wrong?"

"You set me up for an attack, for one!" She snapped.

"You are going to kill me. You charged in here killing my guards, waving your sword at me!" Raziel reasoned in a low voice. "You are a theat, Miss Mudou Nemaelle!"

"YOU SET ME UP! IS THAT NOT GETTING THROUGH TO YOU?" Nema snarled at him, her sword shaking in her hand. "You tricked me. I've come here with PEACE in mind and you AMBUSH me in a tunnel! How's that for a warm welcome?" She was relieved to find that with a good struggle she could just begin to lean away from the blade. "Don't talk to me about threats and death, Raziel. After all this, I'M the one feeling threatened. And I'M the one with good reason to feel like that."

For a long time they stood, Nema in her awkward position, Raziel with his hands on his desk. "… You're a threat to the way I've run things." He murmured after a long pause. "You're throwing it all away with your war!"

"I am FINE with ending my war! … If things go my way!"

"What childish words for a war leader."

"Yeah… well Michael tells me war leaders don't wear petticoats, either."

Nema watched Raziel sigh and run his hands through his golden strands. "You're just like him. A walking bundle of trouble… And I don't even really know you!"

"I'm told I'm a very reasonable and nice girl if you don't, you know, threaten to kill me." Nema narrowed her ruby eyes. "… Have you always had hair like that?"

Raziel blinked his eyes at her. "… You know."

"That you are like me? Yes."

"… I used to be… as pale and red-eyed as you are. They… performed horrible experiments… I watched my wings change and everything."

"And I'd imagine you're thankful for it?"

"… The truth… is I would not mind looking like a Grade-A Rabbit." Raziel stood straight and assessed the damage she had taken. "You have no major wounds."

"I have a very nice bump on my head."

And Raziel found it in himself to laugh. "… You truly meant me no harm."

"I still don't… if you'd let me move my OWN body, please." And finally, Nema felt her body be released from whatever strange hold it was under, and she immediately brought her sword down. She sighed. "Now I'd like to do what I set out to do." She motioned toward him with her free hand. "Sit down. I've got a very long list of questions for you."

"Just questions?" Raziel asked as he sat in his regal-looking chair.

"And a request, but the questions will come first. Excuse me." Raziel watched Nema draw from one of her knee-high boots a cell phone, as white as her.

"You have an albino cell phone?"

"I've become abnormally proud of my albinism." Nema reasoned as she dialed a number. "Michael? Hey, where are you? … Okay. Well I'd like it if you could go back and see who's okay and who needs a trip to Raphael." A muffled yelling was heard over the phone. "I'm FINE! Our fighters are more important than I am. … Yes, I KNOW that. I never said you WEREN'T allowed to care about me more! … My head is FINE! My brain's still intact! CHILL for a moment! I found Raziel. … NO I AM NOT GOING TO KILL HIM. … NO YOU CAN'T COME KILL HIM! I WANT YOU TO GO BACK AND SEE WHAT WE CAN DO ABOUT THE MESS IN THE TUNNEL! … Michael, I don't care if the fire will burn everything to ash. … Miiiiiichael, honey, I love you so much…!" Nema suddenly cooed. "… But if you really loved me, you'd know that this talk with Raziel is very important to me, and I don't have the time to fix the mess down there. So you'd do it for me, if you really loved me. … I AM NOT A BITCH!" She switched to screaming. "You should be careful, you know. YOU are the one sleeping in MY bedroom. And I can CHANGE that." Then she laughed. "Hai. I'll call you when I'm through. … I'm a big girl, Michael. I'll escort myself back. … Yup. Love you. Bye."

Raziel motioned to the chair on the other side of the room, offering it to her with an arched brow. "… Well that's an interesting relationship you have."

Nema smiled as she moved the chair in front of the desk and promptly sat in it with her ankles neatly crossed. "It never gets dull, that's for sure."

She watched him fight the amused smile off his face. "… So, then. You said you had questions for me. Ask them."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: Well I finally brought in Raziel for you all those Raziel fans out there! XD I am aware that it took me so long, yes. For some reason I found that suitable; I'm not really sure why. But awwwww look at him! All grown up and… running Heaven! Not that Nema's necessarily happy with his methods, but in the next chapter we will hear his thoughts and motives and much, much more! So hang on tight, children! I love you!


	37. Chapter 37

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty Seven_

By: Brenli

"Well? I'm waiting for questions, Nemaelle."

Nema blinked. "Call me Nema. And I'm trying to think of what I should ask first."

She watched as the leader of the host of Angels smiled at her. Now that he was not exercising his power over her, she could see that Raziel's eyes were actually a very deep blue. She thought they might even rival Michael's for their purity. "I'd imagine I already know all the questions you have lined up for me."

"Do you?" She said this more as a statement than anything else. She knew he knew what she wanted to ask. The trouble was actually asking.

And Raziel folded his hands on his desk. "Why won't you tell them the truth? Are you ashamed to be an I-Child? Are you afraid that they will hurt you? Have you lost faith in the original Anima Mundi? Do you hate us? Will you forsake us?" He gave her a sidelong glance. "All these come from any I-Child."

Nema bowed her head in acknowledgement. "I speak for my people."

She watched him sigh, his chin resting on his fist, his blue eyes sliding closed. "… I believe that if given the chance to do things over, I might have openly admitted to my origins… And I would have been the voice for our people. It wouldn't have been a job for you to take."

"There's no point in looking back." Nema told him quickly. "That is one of the most valuable things my life taught me. What happened then is something you can't change. You can only keep it from getting worse."

Raziel chuckled. "For a young girl, you are wise." He paused, sighed again, and continued. "… I am not truly ashamed to be an I-Child. I have never hated you because I AM one of you. I never lost faith in the Anima Mundi… it merely split into two divisions that rarely contacted each other due to my actions. But I will tell you now that yes… I am often afraid that the pure Angels of Heaven will hurt me if they knew what I am. And though I've never forgotten you… I've neglected to help you, even when the Rabbit Hunting began."

"… And why did you let it go on, then?"

"I'm afraid I'm a very cowardly leader."

"That's a brave statement for a coward to make. Real cowards make excuses."

Raziel offered her a lop-sided smile. "… And I have no excuses, other than I was afraid that I would be found out. It's not admirable."

"No, it's not."

"But I'm not a coward…?"

"Not being admirable and being a coward are two different things, aren't they?"

"… In some sense." Raziel slowly began to unwind even more around the Queen of the Revolution. He had painted a ruthless picture out of her, envisioned her as a merciless and bloodthirsty spirit of revenge, something to haunt the Heavens… now, as she reasoned with him without prejudice, he could see he had painted the wrong picture.

"… And you haven't told them the truth because you believe it would have killed you."

"… Yes. You see, when I had come into power, Heaven was in a very shaken state… the sad truth is I think the ultimate Truth about God hit us much too hard. We were afraid of many things. We were afraid of almost everything. But the Anima Mundi were left, and I was the head of them… an Improper Child was set up to be the next ruler. And Nema, we were definitely one of the first things to be feared…"

"You don't think they would have accepted it."

"That is a thing with most Angels. We don't adapt well, by nature. We had believed too firmly in God's laws for far too long… so to have them all ripped away and replaced with…"

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"… I understand as well I can. I'm not going to say that's an easy decision… So hiding your origins is an easy way out of that mess."

"It's not admirable."

"I never said it was. I'm not patting you on the back." Nema's voice grew a little firm. "Your decision lacks bravery and consideration of the overall good of ALL Angels, White Wing AND Rabbit. It's a decision that doesn't save our people. It only saved YOU. … But I'm not going to attack you for it. That's unfair. Fear is a natural feeling… especially from someone who was not even a full-fledged adult Angel at the time he'd been placed into a position that big."

Raziel's blue eyes blinked at her. "… You are the only I-Child that took into consideration my age at the time that I stepped up to that position."

Nema only shrugged. "I'm a young girl. I know that fear."

A smile, genuine and wide, curled his lips. "… I'd like to thank you."

"Thank me when we're done. I'm not finished with you." She scolded gently. "… You reprogrammed God."

"… It was hard to take care of Heaven when it was in shambles and had beliefs that were very different from mine. No one understood why I thought it was necessary to care for Shamayim and the other ghettos of Heaven with a top priority over the rest of the land."

"Those places had suffered long before that incident with my father. After that whole adventure, the ghettos were like wounds that were ripped open even further."

"That's a logic no one had but me, at the time. About a month after my reign began people began to talk… Accusing me of having a very particular connection to Shamayim…"

"You were afraid you'd been caught."

"That I was going to be, if I didn't act quick. So I did something I would regret, even as I was doing it. I began to do research on the Laws… and I made a program. And with a simple computer that's locked away in Atziluth, with only my access, I installed it."

"… You made God?"

Raziel laughed. "A Pseudo-God. A Judgement Machine. Something of that sort… that was my intention. It was merely supposed to be something for me to access if I needed help… which was often. I thought I was being safe. I thought it would help me understand… but now… the computer will not shut down."

"… What?"

"… I mean that the computer refuses to stop… being. Over time I found that every computer in this building somehow has my program installed on it… it will go haywire if you try to get rid of it… and as for my computer… I do not touch it."

"Why?"

"Because it has killed three men who tried, and it very nearly killed me."

Nema was quiet for a long time, trying to think of what to say.

"I know it is almost cartoonish. Are you thinking of computer wires strangling people?"

"Or laser beams shooting out of the screen?" Nema said with a smirk.

Raziel shook his head, rolling his blue eyes. "… I believe I have inadvertently reprogrammed the REAL God, Himself. Or, if not Him, then His equally tyrannical cousin."

This time Nema had to laugh.

"… It's hardly a funny matter."

She softened into a snickering and said, "So this… New God… He is indestructible?"

"I have yet to find a way to get rid of Him."

"… Do you want to get rid of Him?"

"… I'm not sure."

This made Nema's smile fall off her face. Once again she was forceful. "And why not?"

"To simply kill Him off – if that's even really possible – means I must create a whole mess full of new laws… The change is so sudden people can't adjust… It will be chaotic. That's something I can't risk."

"That's something you better learn to risk…! Or else people like me get impatient and try to change things in our own ways…!" Nema said moodily. Sympathetic she might have been for now, but she wasn't going to let this leader begin to shy away from her ideal. That wasn't what she came here for.

"Is that a threat?" Raziel responded lowly.

"That's just the truth. What do you think I've been DOING all this time?" Nema snapped back, and allowed a few seconds to pass with them glaring at each other, suddenly at odds once more. "… I still have my request."

"If your request is to wipe out God –"

"I want to end my war. The issue with God is something I can work out with you later… even though I wouldn't MIND pulling the plug on Him right now."

Raziel blinked. "… You've come this far and now you want to end it all?"

With this Nema pulled out a picture from under her mini-crown, unfolded it, and showed it to him. And Raziel's eyes grew into big blue orbs. "… That is the Qarnier. I had awarded it to a woman who had commenced a rebellion against Cheriour."

"Nyssa." Nema nodded. "… It is my sword, now. Nyssa was Wing Cut."

"Wing Cut…" Raziel muttered sadly.

"As was an ex-boyfriend of mine… Rujiel."

"Rujiel?" He eyes widened with recognition of the name.

"His little sister Lilliel is also gone."

"… I see." Raziel said quietly. "… You've come to realize the heavy burden of all these deaths."

"I think a part of me always knew… but now I understand it much more."

"… So then you want to end the Rabbit Revolution. … This is something you can do without my help."

"No. I know I can quit at any time. But the moment I do is when the Rabbit Hunting begins to rise up, and then it'll mean everything I've done is pointless."

The leader of the host of Angel kept a weary eye on her. "… What are you plotting?"

"… A trial? Do you have to make it sound so evil?" Nema blinked.

"A… trial." Raziel repeated.

"Yes. In a way. I want Cheriour and I to be tried before the host of Angels, and the council. We will state our beliefs. We can take any questions that come our way. And if Cheriour wins, we lose and Rabbit Hunting keeps going on… but remember that if you're ever found out, that means your head."

Raziel swallowed the lump in his throat. "… And if you win?"

"That would mean that several of God's so-called 'Natural Laws' are flawed… and that means that once a year, a single law is removed from the system or altered to fit the picture of the true Heaven."

"One law a year… that'll take a long time."

"A nice, slow change for your comfort, then." Nema eyed him teasingly. "And if I win… the first law that goes out the window is –"

"The law against love amongst Angels."

"Exactly."

"… That wipes out more than one law at once. Marriages will be allowed, and children, and –"

"Well, considering how many of us exist to begin with, Raziel, I don't think the removal of that law will ACTUALLY change much. Do you?" A smile crossed the Queen's lips.

Running a hand through his golden strands, he smirked at her. "What a deal you've got, there. I swear you might be the end of me…"

"Oh, no. I might be, if you make me angry enough, but so far you're still in my good book."

He laughed, and then sighed, holding out his right hand. "… A d – Wait."

Nema's pale fingers hovered over his. "Yes?"

"The judge of the trial will most likely be Uriel… and he is a close acquaintance of yours."

Nema's mouth began to frown just slightly. "Uriel has gone through recent heartbreak… I'd imagine that if anything, he would be against my notions of love. He'd be against love in general."

"… I see." Raziel nodded, and then grasped her hand firmly in his. "A deal, then."

"Deal." Nema accepted the shake warmly. Truthfully, she thought this had happened much too easily, but there he was shaking her hand, awarding her with a friendly smile.

"You better make sure I don't regret this. I'm going to be VERY disappointed if that's the case."

"I WILL win. And when that happens, you'll be able to freely admit to who you are. You're a fucking loon if you happen to regret that!"

Raziel laughed heartily, and it was then that Nema noticed the picture on his desk. It was a copy of the very same picture she'd passed in the hallway, of the younger Raziel standing before this merry-looking priest, an annoyed expression wrinkling his brow. "… Is that your father, there?"

Raziel's laughs ended as he looked down at the image. "I hadn't known it was him until he was gone… he was Wing Cut." He sighed, lamenting the past. "He annoyed me more often than not, but I loved good old Zaphkiel like the father he was all along."

"… Zaphkiel."

Raziel nodded. "There isn't a soul alive who doesn't know of him… I'd imagine you learned about him from the Anima Mundi members on your side."

"And some research of my own… He shared… a lot of my views. To be honest I think I look up to him. I've wondered if he would be proud of me."

"Very much so. I would imagine that if he were alive he would hit me with his God forsaken fan…" Suddenly Raziel adopted an aloof and dreamy smile and hit Nema over the top of her head with an imaginary fan. "See here, Raziel! Why are you lying to the world when you clearly rule over it? Can't you take after Nema's example? And could you get me another cup of tea?" He mocked him perfectly.

Nema laughed. "Sounds like a fun person!"

"When he's not dragging you off to Tokyo Disneyland against your will, sure."

"You don't like Tokyo Disneyland?"

Raziel only shrugged. "It was okay. Do you like Tokyo Disneyland?"

He watched her ruby eyes light up. "It's the best! I've only begged to go there almost every birthday I had up until I was 12!"

And Raziel rolled his blue eyes. "Then Zaphkiel would have ADORED your company, that's for sure."

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"It hurts so muuuuuuch…!"

"Ah, quit your whining! Why don't you try getting one that goes up your neck and onto your face? Maybe THEN I'll let you whine! But not now!" Michael snapped at the curly-haired maid that pouted and stole glances at the tattoo over her chest.

It was an idea inspired by the necklace that Katou had given her, and she wanted to do something that would be considered rebellious, because that was obviously Katou's thing. Over the expanse of flesh just above her breasts, now crossed to shining pistols, and tied together with barbed wire and two blood-red roses in full bloom. A banner fluttered over this image, with Katou's name carefully written in Old English lettering.

It was… the last thing Michael expected her to get. He hadn't expected her to get a tattoo at all. But after Michael had let the remnants in the tunnel to Raziel burn to ash and requesting Raphael to whisk the ash away with a swift gust of wind, he'd come home to find her there… with Barbiel and little Abel in her arms.

"She has something she wanted to ask you, Michael." Barbiel had said with a smile as Raphael took Abel and listened to him laugh.

And for a moment, Michael had been scared, until he heard Doll's meek question of, "Do you remember where you… got your tattoo?"

Now he was walking back to the place he momentarily called home, Doll in tow, whining about how much pain she was in. "Just don't TOUCH the thing, you hear?" Michael grumbled at her.

Doll continued to look down at her tattoo. "It's bleeding!"

"'COURSE IT'S BLEEDING, IDIOT!" He snapped.

"There's no need to get so snappy with me! I've never had a tattoo before!"

"Well you've just been STABBED with needles. How can you NOT know you're supposed to bleed?"

Doll pouted. "Geez, you're so grumpy! You're like, twice as bad as Katou! But at least Katou is cute when he's angry!"

Michael practically gagged. "Katou, Katou, Katou… Good Lord, I feel fucking SORRY for Uriel!"

Doll grew sullen at this. "I DO happen to keep myself in check around Uriel, thank you very much! … This whole mess… I'm sorry it had to be this way. But you know… he –"

"Waited too long. Everyone knows that. He knows that. That's a large part of the reason why he's so pissed off right now."

"… But he still lets me live there… With Katou. To me, that's a sign that somewhere in there, he's still the Uriel I admired. A kind, generous Angel… And I do think that one day, he will find someone else, and when that happens, he won't sit back and let her slip away. Not again."

Michael had nothing to say about that, so he only shrugged.

"… God, it itches!"

"Yeah, well don't fucking scratch it! Or it'll be a waste of all that damn money of yours!"

"Just because I said it itches, doesn't mean I'm going to scratch it!" Doll pouted again. "Grumpy, grumpy, grumpy…!"

"Shut up." Micheal mumbled.

"You are almost grumpier than USUAL. You're always a jerk to me, but you've got something mean to say just about every time I talk!"

"Shut up…"

"Of course, a lot of people say you've been REALLY high-strung lately. They say it's because you're thinking about popping the question."

Michael froze, and the air around them began to feel much too hot. "… What did you say…?" He voice seared the poor girl's soul.

"… That you're thinking about popping the question?" Doll's voice squeaked as Michael spun around to give her the most frightening green glare she'd experienced.

"WELL YOU CAN TELL WHOEVER YOU HEARD THAT FROM TO SHOVE IT!" The Fire Angel growled. "IT'S NOBODY'S DAMN BUSINESS WHAT I'M THINKING!" And with that he stomped on to his room, leaving Doll at the front door with questions in her mind.

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Damn them all! DAMN THEM! What the fuck? Did EVERYONE want them to get married? Was it so fucking vital? It wasn't like it was legal, anyway!

And so WHAT if Lucifer had left an open invitation to hop down to Hell for a ceremony? SO WHAT? Michael didn't want to get married there! No offense to him and all, but Michael wanted to get married HERE! IN HEAVEN!

And no, that DIDN'T mean he wanted to get married right now, because he technically couldn't, anyway! And even if he COULD that didn't mean anything!

So damn them all. Damn them ALL!

The War Angel paced inside his bedroom, fuming. What was WITH everyone? You'd think everyone would have died if they didn't get married! And why, oh WHY was that such a big deal? The hardest thing Michael had ever done in his LIFE was just ADMITTING that he loved Nema. Was that NOT enough now?

Michael's boots thumped across the floor as his biker-gloved hands tore at his red hair. "… Damn it!" He hissed. Maybe… he should just get it over with. Like Raphael said, they were as good as married, anyway, right? So maybe he should just do it. Yes. Right when she came through that door, there, he'd ask her. She was probably just waiting for for it, anyway, right? And when he asked her, she might even become so excited (like girls usually are when they're proposed to) she'd pounce on him and give him the biggest damn kiss in the world –

"MIIIIIIIICHAEL!"

He didn't even have the time to blink before he was tackled right off his feet. Lucky for him, he landed not on the hard ground, but on the softness of the bed he shared with Nema. And Nema nearly suffocated him, and then she gave him the biggest damn kiss in the world.

"Wha- ?" Michael choked out between kisses. What the Hell was going on…?

She stopped kissing him for a brief moment, her red eyes shiny as polished rubies. "IT'S YES!"

"What?" He couldn't say much else before Nema was kissing him again. This was getting very… VERY weird…

Then it all made sense to him. "Raziel said yes! The war is OVER!" She finally rolled off of him, a content sigh leaving her mouth. "It was so much easier than I thought it was gonna be…! He didn't do much arguing, at all! So there'll be a trial, and the war is finally over!" She smiled, rolling onto her side, looking as adorable as a happy bride. "This is one of the best days of my life."

"… Oh." He smiled for her, but somehow, he felt let down. He didn't know why.

And then she giggled and pounced on him for the second time. "Let's celebrate…!" And now the sparkle in her eyes took on a different meaning.

"Oh really?" He grinned up at her, watching her nod.

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A shy knock on the door stirred Michael from his slumber. One blue eye slid open, squinting from the light that was still shining. A simple grunt was all he offered.

And then a voice spoke up from the other side. "Nema-sama requested a feast in celebration for her latest success. It's ready."

The Angel grunted again, this time in annoyance. Pressing a kiss in the white crown of her head, he gently shook her awake. "… Food's ready…" He mumbled sleepily.

But she waved it away with her pale hand and snuggled against his bare chest.

"Nevermind." Michael called out lazily. "We'll show up later if we want."

As he listened to the departing footsteps from the other side of the door, he looked down at his snowy-white lover, naturally white as a bride. God, it was a perfect time to ask her…

"Nema…"

But she was already asleep… no doubt dreaming of success and freedom, and not of marriage. So he kissed her forehead and allowed sleep to come over him, not knowing that just maybe, she was dreaming of wedding bells, too.

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AUTHORESS NOTE:

Geez, this update took so long…! I blame work, I do. However, upon consideration of the upcoming schoolyear and some not-so-great-treatment at my workplace, my last day of work will be on the 19th! Yes, that means I will be jobless for a while… Though I am planning on looking for a new one when I get into the swing of things, if the workload isn't too much. It might be though… A biology lab class (I am not of the math & sciences), and I'm finally actually taking a Japanese class. Oh, I do have my work cut out for me.

I know I've said it before, but it's almost the end! And I really do mean it this time, I swear! Maybe a few more chapters! Yes… And if I make it over 40 chapters, I am going to go into shock, because I never fathomed it taking this long.


	38. Chapter 38

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty Eight_

By: Brenli

It was a particularly drizzly morning in Heaven. For people like Michael and Nema, this didn't matter much. It meant that they could get away with sleeping in a little later, hiding under the warmth of blankets.

For other people… for people that had big dreams, however twisted, and for people that watched those dreams begin to tear into shreds, this drizzly morning was enough to be the death of them because it echoed so clearly the utter melancholy that ran through them.

For people like Cheriour, this was a maddening morning.

Due in part to the loss of Michael and his followers, and in part to Nema's growing skill as a war leader, Cheriour had watched the numbers of his Hunters shrink to nearly embarrassing numbers. And now, he had only just finished settling into his newest location… though he was no fool and knew that this base was probably next to be targeted.

So with no real faith in this base, and rapidly decreasing faith in his troops, the ever-enigmatic Angel of Punishment spent this gray morning in the darkness of his new room, bent over a map of Rabbit Territory, perhaps pondering many things… perhaps, pondering nothing. His classically apathetic face acknowledged the knock on his door with only the slightest hint of the simple word, "Yes?"

And as he listened to the words spoken to him by high officials, his eyes, however hidden behind the thick, blonde bangs, widened in surprise, and then softened with a keen and possibly depressed understanding.

"… After a counsel Raziel-sama had with one Nemaelle of the Rabbits, he came to the conclusion that this matter will be civilly settled within the high court. Archangel Uriel-sama of the Earth will preside as judge. Rest assured, he will take a divine oath to remain unbiased in this matter. The trial will be broadcast and the populace will each have one vote in this matter as to help with coming to the final conclusion. It has been requested that both Nemaelle and yourself be confined and treated as potentially guilty of war crimes…"

And Cheriour listened to all this and more, his mouth opening, but saying nothing. But when he allowed his wrists to be bound in handcuffs, he finally smiled. It was a curious smile, small, maybe sad, maybe annoyed. And as he was led away, he began to hum, and nothing more.

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"Uriel?"

The Earth Angel froze and removed his focus from the book he was reading, bringing the green gaze up to the vision of the Rabbit Queen. She was dressed differently. A blank tank top and a simple pair of black pants, the folds of soft fabric flowing over her black boots. No mini-crown adorned her snowy-pale head. "… How plain."

Nema blinked twice. "… Oh." Her hands brushed over the thighs of her pants. "I'm not interested in looking like a Queen, today. I'm representing my people. I'm not a walking show."

"… For the trial."

"Yes."

Uriel cleared his scarred throat, though doing so did not make the sound of his voice any better or worse. For a week they had been preparing for this… a trial to end the war. Now it was finally here. "… I will be completely unbiased. You know this."

"I wouldn't ask anything more from you."

"Then you realize that this won't be easy for you. There is plenty of evidence that can destroy all you've been working for. And with the host of Angels voting, there is the high change they'll be against you."

"I understand all of this."

"And then you realize that I myself have no faith in your ideals… things like love are not things I wish to partake in personally and it will be hard to sway thanks to… recent developments." His voice echoed through her coldly.

But she only frowned at him. "… Those are your personal wishes… to not be in love. But that shouldn't prevent those who DO wish to be in love from fulfilling their wishes. Furthermore… that is a personal bias, Uriel. And before the trial begins, you've sworn to take an oath to remain unbiased."

Uriel simply stared at her. After a short moment he replied, "… Then you accept that I will not be an ally in this trial."

"Neither an ally OR an enemy. A judge. As is your duty." Nema nodded her head. "… But outside of court, I will regard you as a friend."

"I am not suited for friends. I need no form of companionship. None."

"Uriel…"

"They will be coming to get you for the trial. Perhaps you would rather be next to the Angel you love most at that time." He said this as his farewell, and with that he left her, his book lying upon on the table.

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She returned home, her pale ears picking up the sounds of a scuffle. One of the voices, among a few, was Michael's. And with this she quickened her pace, finally finding him at the door to the mansion that was more or less all hers, now. "… What is going on here?" She asked with wide red eyes.

Michael cursed and swore and beat his white wings against the heads against the high officials trying to drag him forward, his wrist bound in handcuffs. "THEY'RE TREATING US LIKE FUCKING CRIMINALS!" He snarled, his eyes a vivid green.

"In accordance with the papers you signed along with Raziel-sama's signature, you are each to be tried as possibly guilty of war crimes." One of the officials, a stuffy-looking man, said simply.

"Michael included?" Nema scowled.

"No, but in accordance with the current law, any Angel guilty of sexual relations with another Angel is to be arrested. He must be bound."

"WHAT ABOUT MY FUCKING CONTRACT?" The Fire Angel yelled.

"Upon consideration of your current living arrangements with one Nemaelle, one can come to an almost certain conclusion… and any activity of that particular nature after the contract has been fulfilled can still be tried in court."

And with that he growled and flapped his great white wings in aggravation. Nema only stood and assessed the picture before her, not liking it, willing to accept the idea of herself being bound, but not Michael.

And then she saw him, sitting in the back seat of the plain, black vehicle, his window unrolled… blonde bangs hiding his eyes, and a cruel smirk pasted on his features. She watched Cheriour as he chuckled at the sight, and swallowed the foul words that wanted to leave her mouth. She walked up to the high official and offered her wrists to the handcuffs waiting for her, ignoring the contented sigh that left him.

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The ride to the courthouse was quiet inside the car, though Nema watched as the numbers of Angels began to rise and form a line on either side of the vehicle, on one side only White Wings, on the other a speckled mass of White Wings and Rabbits. It was the first time that the two groups formed so close to each other without physical violence. The supporters of Cheriour were lined up on Nema's side of the car, and they could faintly see her pale form through the dark window. She heard horrible curses… 'slut' and 'whore' being among many. She tried her hardest to ignore the words, though they still slipped through her, made her feel small against this group of people.

"FUCKING RABBIT WHORE! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, TAINTING A HIGH-RANKED ANGEL?"

That really did the trick. She bit back tears, then felt a hand wipe away a stray drop of pain. She looked over at Michael and offered him a small smile as he rolled down his window and allowed more encouraging words to slip in and soothe her. Simple phrases such as 'good luck' and 'win the good fight' washed away the insults that made her sick inside. A couple I-Children got angry at the insults they heard and hurled insults right back at the White Wing Supremacists, making Nema's smile grow even more as she reached out to touch Michael's hand. He'd said nothing the whole way there, and continued to say nothing, though he squeezed her fingers and sighed.

Their car came to a stop. Outside Michael's window, they could see Cheriour being led into the courthouse before them, the door just beginning to close. And then the car door swung open and they were being pulled out. Or at least, Michael was. "Wait! Wait, dammit!" Michael tried to reach out for her.

She followed him out swiftly, quickly being intercepted and led a different way than he was.

Michael's blue eyes widened and began to turn green with rage. But this time he was mad at himself. He'd been trying to… the whole way there…! And he hadn't said anything…! And now they were dragging them apart! "NEMA!"

He watched her turn her pale head and regard him with wide, slightly bewildered eyes as big, important-looking Angels herded her on.

"WE'RE GONNA WIN!" Michael cried.

Nema smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"… AND WHEN WE WIN, I WANNA MARRY YOU!"

The gasps were almost deafening, but he wasn't thinking about that. He watched her. She had frozen for just that slight moment, her face unreadable, but the moment she felt the tugs on her arms, she turned and ran to him, fighting off the hands reaching for her.

He smiled. She smiled. And they both struggled against the Angels trying to pry them apart, and ignored the cries of mixed joy and disgust, shock and awe, as they kissed. In an attempt to be free for one small moment, they each beat their wings against the Angels, but to no avail. Inevitably they parted, but not before shouting a resounding, "I love you…!" to each other.

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"… Oh my God."

It was a cry shared by many people that watched the broadcast. It was, in particular, a simultaneous sentence that slipped from the mouths of Barbiel and Doll as they watched the pair kiss.

"… Now I'm beginning to wish I was there with them." Barbiel pouted a little.

"Noooo. Abel needs his mommy, you know…!" Doll cooed and rocked the little Rabbit baby in her arms, watching as the red right eye winked sleepily up at her.

"OY!" Katou's voice grated the air as he stomped into the room, waving what looked like a newsletter in his hand.

"MICHAEL PROPOSED TO NEMA!" Doll cried simultaneously with her lover.

"How do you know?"

"THIS is how I know!" Katou showed her the newletter.

The press in Heaven was a lot quicker than it seemed. Already a picture of the pair was being sent out like wildfire, lips locked, eyes closed, a brilliant display of love between one of black wings and one of white as the duo was almost forced completely apart by Angels. The plain image spoke of struggles and love, imprisonment and a most beautiful rebellion. It was almost artwork.

Beneath the image was a small headline that did not do the image justice. "Archangel Michael-sama of the Flame and the infamous Nemaelle of the Rabbits mere seconds after the shocking public proposal."

"… Hadn't that happened only a few moments ago?" Barbiel asked with an arched brow.

"I don't question what the seedy tabloids put out, man. Not the ones from Heaven, anyway! Besides, you've just confirmed it by already seeing it on TV!" He brushed some stray blonde hair out of his eyes and then nonchalantly asked Doll, "How's that sexy tattoo of yours?"

Doll blushed. "… It's itchy."

"Hush, hush!" Barbiel shushed the couple. "It's about to begin, already…! The trial to end the war is about to be broadcast, now!"

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"We're coming to you live outside the courthouse in which resides the notorious and deadly Mudou Nemaelle of the Rabbits. That's correct, it is confirmed that she is indeed the daughter of the supposed savior Mudou Setsuna, whose rampage nearly cost us Our God! It has come to our attention that the plaintiff, the highly revered Cheriour-sama, has taken his oath and is about to be questioned…!"

Nema shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she watched Cheriour sitting calmly, almost happily. She noted there didn't seem to be any prosecutors running around, which she supposed was fine. She'd been half-expected to be drilled with rude questions from some stuffy Angel and now, that didn't seem to be the case. But where was Michael? She'd heard from some idle chitchat that he'd been put into a kind of custody until he would be summoned… mostly because Michael didn't have a good idea of what proper behavior in the courtroom was, and probably would have swore and spoken out of turn and caused general mayhem… so they were keeping him out as long as they could. But Nema only smiled and shrugged it off. They WOULD be bringing him in at some point. They HAD to, considering he was her Guardian Angel and had, for a portion of her life, been an important figure.

It seemed that Uriel would be doing all the questioning, as he looked down his tan nose at Cheriour. "Please state your name and rank for the transcripts."

"Cheriour. Unranked." He said placidly.

"Unranked."

"Yes… your Honor. Unranked."

"And how is it that you are unranked?"

Cheriour shrugged.

"A verbal response, please." Uriel said dryly.

"… The truth is I am best suited to be ranked as one of the Powers, your Honor, Uriel-sama." He spoke politely, calmly. "However, Michael-sama is not particularly fond of me, and to prevent unnecessary conflict I have shied away from becoming candidate for Powers."

"No good…" Raphael muttered under his breath as he sat amongst the many Angels that came to watch the trial.

"No good?" Replied a very nervous Setsuna.

"By saying that the only reason he has no rank is because Michael doesn't like him, people will immediately write Michael off as a poor leader with bad judgement." Raphael paused and thought over what he said. "… Which is what a lot of people think, anyway, but reaffirming that won't help once it's Michael's turn to talk."

"Unranked, then." Uriel continued, almost seeming bored with it, already. Maybe, he really was. "Quite some time ago, around the time of Mudou Nemaelle's birth, you began a campaign of sorts. Is this correct?"

"Yes, your Honor."

"Explain the nature of this campaign."

"It was a rally to be rid of the I-Children."

"And why do you feel that is the correct maneuver?"

"That is plain to see on many levels. It is widely known that an Angel must not love another Angel. To do so is to hold another person over God and demeans His worth as our Creator. The I-Children are proof of these unholy relations, and to purify Heaven for our God, extermination is the only answer." I-Children seated on one side of the room grumbled in low voices as Nema bit her lip to hide her scowl. "Furthermore, from a logical point of view, they take up too much space. The results of my campaign have shown that there are immense amounts of these types hiding in the slums and ghettos of Heaven, unregistered and unruly. They are trash."

And this sent a mighty cry from one half of the courtroom, and Uriel quickly scooped up the gavel and slammed it several times. "ORDER!" His voice bellowed only once, but that was enough. "… Cheriour, you will take care to refrain from insults and will respond in a professional manner. Such is usually your fashion."

"It is not insult. Merely fact. There was a time when this was common knowledge…" Cheriour paused, cleared his throat. "But now that the Revolution has begun this is becoming muddied with unholy thoughts."

"And thank God for it!" Nema snapped.

"Hold your tongue!" Uriel responded swiftly, and the harsh tone made Nema shrink. Then he was not going to show mercy for either side… "Continue." He told Cheriour.

"… There is nothing more to say. I have stated my reasons for starting the Rabbit Hunting."

"… Very well. You may step down." Uriel performed the meaningless action of clearing his throat and said, "May Mudou Nemaelle please come to the stand."

A quietness fell over the room as Cheriour took his seat, Nema swore to tell the truth, and sat before the great Judge, Uriel. "Your name and rank."

"Mudou Nemaelle…" She started quietly. "… Also, unranked."

Uriel paused and mentally scolded himself for forgetting that as an unregistered Angel, there was no way that she could have a rank. He was too used to regarding Nema as a fellow Angel… and he realized that in a way, that was a bit like a bias. This truly was harder than he thought. Maybe he shouldn't have been the judge for this particular, strange type of trial.

Nema continued, thinking the silence was a request of an explanation. "… As a Rabbit I've never been granted a ra-"

"Yes, I know. I-Children are not given a rank. And you will take care not to use such slang in the courtroom. It is strange to insult oneself."

"Rabbit is a far better term than I-Child." Nema said lowly. "That very title… Improper Children… That is an insult, right there. I would rather be referred to as a Rabbit than something wrong."

"… Then you should take care to use the usual technical terms, Miss Mudou."

Nema paused, feeling the iciness of that reply flowing down her like a bucket of freezing water dumped over her head. "… Then forgive me… your Honor."

"… Now, you are the war leader of the Rabbit Revolution. Please state your reasons for turning the Rabbit Hunting into an all-out war."

"That's simple enough. I wanted to end the Rabbit Hunting. My kind don't deserve to be put to death like criminals when many of my current soldiers had to be trained for battle because they had never so much as touched a weapon or hurt a man. We don't take up too much space, and we're not trash. We're real people, and the only reason we had LIVED in the slums and ghettos was because we'd had no other choice in the matter! And we didn't have a choice in THIS matter, either."

"How so?"

"We would have been DESTROYED if someone didn't do something."

"And that's all well and good," Cheriour mumbled smugly.

"You will hold your tongue, as well!" Uriel snapped. Cheriour only chuckled.

After sending a particularly fiery glare at Cheriour, Nema took a deep breath and finished. "… That is my only reason for starting the Revolution."

Uriel remained silent for a long while. "… Then please explain all of this." He held up a small device, pushed a button, and a hologram appeared before everyone. The general whole gasped and cringed. Image after image was traded off of White Wing casualties done by the hands of Rabbits, many by Nema herself.

Again, she took a deep breath. Oh, how could he ever…? Making the implication that she was heartless? Judge or not, this was a twisted way to present the facts! "Those are war casualties! You want to flash those all day long and make it look like I was going on a killing spree? Fine, go ahead! But not without showing them pictures of the deaths my kind have suffered at the hands of the like of HIM!" She waved a wild, pale finger at Cheriour. "Better yet, show them pictures of the deaths PRIOR to the Revolution! There used to be a whole FIELD dedicated to it, and if it were still standing, I'd show it to you! OH, I'D SHOW IT TO YOU!"

"Nema –"

"I'd show you what was left of a little girl I had to kill, myself! JUST to put her out of her misery!"

"MISS MUDOU, YOU WILL CALM DOWN OR I WILL HOLD YOU IN CONTEMPT!" Uriel yelled, the deep voice echoing off the walls.

"There are pictures of the deaths of my kind." Nema muttered after yet another breath.

"I am aware of this."

"Then you will present them, Uriel… your Honor. I won't be made out like a criminal."

"… As you wish." The Earth Angel pushed another button, and the pictures remained gruesome, but the bodies belonged to people that were always white as death, even in life. The image of a little girl with one purple, emotionless eye flashed over the screen and Nema whispered her name.

"Isobelle…" And then she turned to talk to the whole room. "See? For every death I have caused, there are more deaths that go unavenged! I am not a cold murderer. I am a fighter and I have good cause!"

"Empty cause." Cheriour retorted.

"Don't talk to me about emptiness!" Nema yelled at him. "You have no heart inside you! At least I still have mine!"

"Rabbits don't have hearts. Rabbits aren't people."

"EXCUSE ME?"

"… And Rabbits have no emotions. They are products of unholy unions, born of sin. And they will live in sin and die in sin, like the empty sacks of flesh they are."

"I HAVE NO EMOTIONS?" Nema seethed. "NONE? I'M DISPLAYING NO EMOTIONS? FUCK YOU! I'VE GOT HALF A MIND TO POP YOUR HEAD OFF YOUR SHOULDERS!"

"ORDER! ORDER!" Uriel returning to banging his gavel.

"Only half a mind," Cheriour went on. "And nothing more. That is all the potential you will ever have, as a worthless, sinful, inhuman Rabbit."

"INHUMAN? I AM THREE TIMES THE HUMAN YOU ARE!"

"You are a Rabbit, you silly girl. Make what claims you want, but you aren't worth a life. You are only worth death."

"I AM WORTH MY LIFE, HOWEVER SHITTY YOU MADE IT WHEN YOU FUCKING RAPED ME!" She was too enraged to hear the gasps or see her parents bow their heads in slight shame. "I AM TIRED OF THIS 'UNWORTHY' BULLSHIT! I COULD TELL ANY RABBIT TO WRITE AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND YOU WOULD BE DAMN NEAR TO TEARS, IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS THE LIFE OF A RABBIT!"

"ORDER!" Uriel bellowed again.

"Any Rabbit? Even a mere child?" Cheriour said with a smirk.

"AND I COULD VOMIT BECAUSE OF IT!" Nema hissed at him. "We have all lived shitty lives at the expense of YOU and your LAWS and your GOD and I will end it all!"

"I SAID ORDER IN THE HIGH COURT!" The gavel snapped in half from the pressure Uriel put on it… And FINALLY, things went silent. "… For many years, the Angels have believed that as being made from lust, I-Children are walking sins, and nothing more. Do you, Mudou Nemaelle, challenge this?"

"With all my heart, which I DO have. With my life." Nema said firmly.

"No, Nema…" Jibril said quietly.

Her daughter only looked on with determined eyes. "Do you need a sad story to make you see? Then I'll do it. I'll give you MY autobiography, but not before telling you that others have it much worse than I do. But I hope that when they call a fucking ten-minute recess that you think about this: This could be YOUR story. The only thing keeping it from such is that fact that you have NO parents, and your skin is JUST dark enough." And she turned her ruby eyes up to Uriel. "Is that fine for evidence?"

The Earth Angel sighed. "This is one of the most messed up, strange excuses for a trial. I'm almost ready to say anything goes." With his gavel now useless, Uriel used his fist, instead. "I'm calling a ten-minute recess before I let this madness go on. I've got a headache already, and I need a new gavel."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

AUTHORESS NOTE:

Oh, the joys of no job…! XD But I did start school today. Work already! And I'm thinking about auditioning for the play. But at least I should still have time!

And I know I've gone off about this before, but God…! I don't MEAN to make Uri so… EMO! I WANT to make him happy! I want to give him flowers and chocolates! And a big ol' hug! BUT… because of certain circumstances, I cannot. For one, Doll and Katou are a cute couple, I don't care what you say. And for two, I'm finding this colder part of Uriel really works for the trial here.

Oh, and by the way, I don't know SHIT about trials, and I don't care. The whole thing was unorthodox from the start.


	39. Chapter 39

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Thirty Nine_

By: Brenli

"Michael-sama?"

The Fire Angel blew off whoever was trying to get his attention. Maybe he was crazy, but after being locked up in an Angel Crystal prison TWICE, the stereotypical iron-bars jail cell really wasn't all that bad. At least he could reach THROUGH the bars and smack whoever offended him.

He couldn't be bothered at this moment. He was too busy looking at the itty bitty hologram hovering at the top of his cell, watching the trial and wanting oh-so-badly to rip Cheriour into pieces for the things he had said.

"… Michael-sama." The voice tried again, more firmly. And this time he was rewarded with a slight twitch of the Michael's white wings and a middle finger promptly thrust in the air, stirring rude laughs from the surrounding prisoners.

This made Michael feel just a teeny bit better about his situation. Most of the people in this particular prison were just delinquents. They were in for silly things like mouthing off to high officials and being too wild for their comfort. … In other words, Michael fit right in. Already he was considered a favorite and possibly a leader. Of course, it probably helped that many of the men in here were of the Powers, anyway.

He listened as footsteps moved away from him and began a quiet and annoyed mumbling to someone at the end of the hall. After a pause, he heard a shove and a stumble. He laughed to himself. Whoever was at the end of the hall didn't seem to care what that Angel thought, either.

And then he heard cat calls. And a laugh he was very familiar with.

He rushed to the bars and immediately stuck his arms through, ready to greet her… and there she was, looking a little peeved already, but he really didn't blame her. "Nema, just kill him off already!" This was his version of a hello.

Nema took hold of his hands and shrugged. "I want to. Doesn't make it right."

"I'll do it, then."

"No, you won't!" Nema stuck her tongue out at him. "You WANT to get stuck in jail? What are we gonna have, a prison wedding?"

Michael just gave her a crooked sort of smile. That proposal… it really wasn't how he'd wanted it, at all. But it was done. And she hadn't said yes, LITERALLY. But it was obvious that she wanted it, and well… that was enough. "… Nah. The honeymoon would suck."

"Exactly." Nema laughed. Her eyes flickered up to the hologram she saw in the corner. "… So you've been watching it all, then."

"Everyone is."

"Then you know I'm gonna be reciting some kind of autobiography."

The Fire Angel nodded. "That's gutsy, you know. It's not REALLY any of their damn business."

Again, she shrugged. "Half of the room is full of idiots. There I am screaming my heart out, and they still think I have no emotions. I didn't know anger wasn't an emotion. Did you?"

Michael smirked. "No, must be a new thing." Then he nodded up to hologram.

Setsuna and Jibril stood side by side as they were being interviewed by a reporter. "We have the utmost faith that what's best for Heaven will be, and in our opinion our daughter is carrying the torch for a better era." Setsuna said with a smile.

"We didn't expect that to be her job, but she's done wonderfully, and we're definitely proud of her!" Jibril added.

"Is there anything else you'd like to say?"

"Yes," Setsuna stepped up to the microphones being shoved toward him. "We'd like to congratulate Michael! He's done good!"

"We look forward to having him for a son-in-law! My fellow Elemental!" Jibril laughed.

Nema's smile grew as she shook her head at the screen. "It's a good thing dad got over being so protective. Otherwise, I wonder what he would have said…!"

Michael nodded, but he changed the subject. "They're cuffed."

"Hmm?"

He pointed at the screen. "Why were they cuffed?"

And Nema sighed. "Oh. Well, they made me. You take it from there…" Nema watched him as he looked up at her with his blue eyes. "Raphael is also cuffed."

"Barbiel?"

"She's still in Hades. A lot of the White Wings on our side are actually turning themselves in, if they're involved with anyone else… If you ask me, they're being too faithful. I could still lose. I have to tell them my life story just to prove to them that we have FEELINGS. I didn't expect it to be that pathetic."

"… So everyone out there's cuffed but they're roaming around?"

"Yes."

"Then why the fuck am I in here?"

Nema reached into the cell to idly trace a pale finger down the line of his tattoo. "Because they think you'll be too rowdy. Or that you'll go on a killing spree."

"I promise I'll just kill Cheriour…!"

She laughed and poked his cheek. "No. Killing. Period."

He rolled his eyes. "What are they gonna do? Bring a camera in and ask me questions from here?"

"No, they'll let you in, once you're needed."

"Miss Mudou." A voice said from the end of the hall. "The recess is almost over."

The pair sighed. "… Soon." Nema whispered to him, and her eyes widened when he reached out, grabbed her head, and planted a kiss on her.

"Soon." Michael repeated nonchalantly, basking in all the hoots and hollers from his jailmates.

"You damn jerk." Nema said as she blew a kiss and moved off.

"But I love you!" Michael grinned.

"Love you!"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"She was born one month, one week early, and I ended up having her at home." Jibril recalled as she stood before the Judge. "An angry little girl from the moment she was born. We had to take her to the hospital because she was having breathing problems and she put up quite a fight getting all those tubes hooked up to her and putting her in the incubator. She was there for a week, and then we were allowed to take her home, but she didn't stop being so bratty for a few days. I think she was holding a grudge."

"An angry girl?" Uriel questioned, perhaps with the heavy tones of boredom.

"Very. She was notorious for not being very kind all through her younger years at school."

"And in the older years?"

"… We took a different approach to the behavioral complaints we received after she was in her fifth year. We rather stopped believing them."

"And why is that?"

"One time well into her fifth year, Nema came home crying. 'I have no Angel watching over me.' That's what she told us. I found out later that children from a church on the way to her school had thrown rocks at her and called her a sinner…" The Water Angel's mouth suddenly formed a firm line. "And when she defended herself, a NUN who knew about Setsuna and I decided to tell her she was DAMNED, and that she had NO say in the matter. That she had no Angel to protect her." When she looked up at Uriel, her blue eyes were blinking back frustrated tears. "And when we received a complaint from that same church, telling us that she had beaten up a boy we later identified as one of the children that threw stones at her, we didn't blame her. Not a bit."

"You believed that she was only seeking revenge?"

"Either that or it was self-defense that was misread. Each time we received a complaint we looked into it and found that our little girl was dealing with people that immediately wrote her off as a mishap. If they didn't know about Setsuna and I, then they felt that she was… cursed, somehow. Because of her albinism." Jibril's hands clenched together in their handcuffs. "My daughter was subject to discrimination that she can't prevent. She didn't choose to be my child, and she didn't choose to be so pale. And it's unfair to pick on her and threaten her because of something she can't change. That is a lesson we all learn at a young age… that golden rule. Do unto others as you would have done unto you. You wouldn't want someone to hurt you because your wings are such a dark brown, would you, Uriel?"

"… No, I would not."

"And so you would think twice about harming a girl who is also a little different. We all should."

Uriel paused, feeling awkward that Jibril had drawn him into the conversation as though they were talking personally. "… So Mudou Nemaelle is the subject of much bullying. And she did not take it well."

"No human being would."

The answer made him smile a little, but quickly wiped it off his face. "No, I suppose not. Now, there was something mentioned earlier… about a rape."

Jibril grew quiet for a long while. "… It was Easter. She was twelve. She had been enrolled into a Catholic school at the time and she said that she wanted to go to a party that was being held afterward. Setsuna and I let her go… we were just happy that she would be going to a party and hopefully, as it was a school function, she would be fine."

"And the party wasn't fine?"

"No, the party was fine. But it passed dinnertime and we still hadn't heard from her."

"Did you go searching for her?"

"Setsuna did. I stayed home, in case she came back on her own." Again, Jibril paused. Her shoulders began to shake. "He found her…" She choked on tears.

"… You may step down, Jibril." Uriel said softly, watching her move away. "May Setsuna please come to the stand." And when he took his oath and stood before him, he asked, "… On the evening of Easter, you found your daughter?"

Setsuna nodded. Already he looked distraught.

Uriel hated the next question but knew it should be asked. "… What condition was she in?"

Setsuna opened his mouth. He closed it. He sighed a little, looked up and tried to speak again. He couldn't maintain eye contact.

"I was bleeding." A voice spoke from the front of the room. Nema's white hair flowed over her face to hide a deep, humiliated blush. But her voice was loud and firm. "From many places. I don't think I need tell you just which areas, because that's not your business, anyway. I was tied up… Kind of… curled up. I couldn't feel my hands or my feet. My underwear was gone. A pair of rabbit ears was put on my head during the deed." She stood up and glared a little at Cheriour and said, "'For now and ever you are marked by the hand of God, little bunny girl.' That was what he kept telling me. And he left me there, in the alley two blocks away from that old school, surrounded by trashcans. He made sure to spit on me before he left, if that's of any importance to you." She ignored the murmurs around her as she looked up at the Earth Angel. "Anything else you want to know about my condition?"

"… That will suffice."

Nema sat back down, her hair slipping over her face again.

"… Mudou Setsuna." Uriel began, "After you found you daughter, what did you do?"

"… I carried her home." Setsuna's voice quivered from the recollection. "She was awake… but she couldn't walk, so I carried her. … I ran, and when we got home I called the police right away." He hung his head. "There was so much blood… I got sick."

"… Was the one responsible ever found?"

Setsuna shook his head.

"He is in this room."

Uriel looked over at Nema. "Is he?"

Nema nodded. "I already told you. Cheriour did it." Her hands clasped the edge of her seat. "I remember that hair… and that voice… that evil voice…"

Cheriour only smiled as the murmurs picked up.

"Setsuna, you may step down. Cheriour, approach the bench."

He did so.

"Is it true that you are guilty of this rape?"

"It was not rape." Cheriour said simply, "For she is nothing more than a walking sin. So if I wish to use her for nothing more than a carnal pleasure, then I may do so. I am purging myself of my lust by giving it to a wastebasket."

"FUCK YOU!" Nema suddenly screeched, coming to a stand.

"Furthermore, when you asked of her condition, she readily gave you a rather lengthy description, and she gave it rather calmly. Aside from the short outburst you have just heard, she hardly even seems to acknowledge the rape as traumatic."

"DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT TRAUMA!" Nema screamed. "It was EVIL! You RUINED me! I don't seem traumatized? Forgive me for having restraint! They TEACH you that in the therapy they put you into when someone fucking RIPS you apart inside like that!"

"So now that I accuse you, you're going to act like you've been in pain?" Cheriour retorted.

"I'M NOT ACTING!" Nema's voice was shaking. "I WANTED TO DIE BECAUSE OF YOU! I TRIED to die because of the… the THINGS you did and the things you said!"

And Cheriour's voice dropped into a husky lowness as he said, "For now and ever you are marked by the hand of God, little bunny girl."

"'LITTLE BUNNY' THIS…!" And Nema exploded into rage and tears and flew at him.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

The courtroom went into temporary pandemonium. "… Oh… well…" The nervous female reporter stuttered, "It seems there has been a rather violent outburst in the courtroom and we will get right back to the broadcast as soon as it's cleared up…" After a lengthy pause with the camera focused on her, she grinned stupidly. "Well, it certainly has been a wild trial! Definitely going to be a hot topic for many years to come, won't it?"

"Hey, why aren't you smiling your ass off?"

"Yeah, your girl just started beating the SHIT out of that fucking loser!"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" Michael snapped at the two Angels in the cell across from his.

They must've been too stupid. They weren't looking at the whole picture. Nema had been raped, that was horrible. She was beating Cheriour for it, and that was great. And Michael was happy for it, and he wanted to smile his ass off.

But that wasn't the whole picture. The whole picture was that Cheriour got AWAY with raping Nema because Michael hadn't been there to save her, and he should have been. Michael leaned against his iron bars and took a slow breath. It had been hard to listen to that… Nema painting the picture of what she looked like after the rape. Michael had wanted to cover his ears. He almost fell ill. He found himself adding on to the sentences. She was bleeding from many places because Michael hadn't saved her. She was tied up because Michael hadn't saved her. Her underwear was gone because Michael hadn't saved her. And she had been spit on afterwards… because he hadn't done a thing, not one tiny thing, to save her.

His fingers gripped the bars with white knuckles. He tried to remember what he'd been doing that day… what had been more important than her, at that time? Was it real work, keeping the barriers of Heaven safe? Was it something stupid, like hunting?

Was it something horrible, like sitting at home and being bored… because he'd forgotten all about her?

"Whoa! What the fuck are you doing?" Someone in the jail cell to the right asked.

Michael shivered as he felt the impact run through him. He'd slammed his head against one of the iron bars. "… Fuck!" He cursed under his breath. God, that had hurt. But he deserved it.

"YOU CAN'T COME IN HERE! MISS MUDOU!"

Michael shook his head to clear his vision as he watched Nema stomping her way down the hall. Her face was red with anger and wet with tears. Her hair was mussed. She was bleeding a little, from the corner of one lip. And she stopped in front of Michael's cell, raising her hands to her head, and she began to pace, muttering something to herself.

"MISS MUDOU!" The guard called again.

"I'M FUCKING STAYING HERE AND THAT'S ALL THERE IS TO IT!" Nema screamed, and then she dropped to her knees in front of the Fire Angel's cell, her hands grabbing the bars.

"You're bleeding." Michael mumbled to her as he dropped down before her. He could hear what she was muttering, now. She was counting… backwards from ten, back up, and then down again. He wondered if she'd been taught that in therapy, too. It broke his heart.

Finally, Nema took a deep breath and licked away the blood from the corner of her mouth. "… It's nothing…" She breathed. "I bit my tongue."

He reached out to run his fingers through her hair, and it was knotted. "… Why are you here?"

"Another recess, already." Nema was still breathing deeply, but she was calming down now that she was by him. "Uriel made a big show of being stressed already, but I think he was trying to give me a break. Cheriour is a prick."

At the mention of his name, Michael's hand dropped down. "… Hey…"

Nema's red eyes had been closed for the moment, and now she opened them, again.

"… Sorry."

"Sorry?"

Michael nodded. He couldn't look at her. "Sorry."

And then he felt her hand reach into the cell to rest over his. "This is not your fault." She said quietly.

"I didn't…"

"I know. But you said you were sorry… And I forgive you."

The Fire Angel looked up at her with a sad sort of smile. "… Don't have a clue why you do."

This made Nema smile back in the same sad way. "Because I love you. Love means forgiveness. No one is perfect. You have to forgive those flaws and errors… if you don't, then love dies." She took a deep breath. "I was raped, and that is bad. But I am not the only girl who has been raped. There were 30 girls in the group sessions for my therapy… and that's just for one hour of the day, in one town." Her smile faltered a little. "I was the youngest one, but that's beside the point." She sighed and leaned her head against the bars that separated them, and smiled as she felt him kiss her forehead. "… I broke his nose, again."

The War Angel laughed. "I was gonna ask how bad the damage was."

"Not as bad as it could have been… but I did break his nose. That was the most satisfying thing ever."

"I keep telling you to kill him."

"… How about this. After the trial, we can kill him."

"Sounds like a plan. Cheriour Hunting."

Nema smiled and nodded.

"… Things have been put back into order in the courtroom, Miss Mudou. We shall continue." The guard cleared his throat. "Michael-sama's presence is also requested."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Nema re-entered first. She expected the murmurs after all that wildness. She wasn't really sure if she should have expected the looks of pity that fell over the side of the room in favor of Cheriour. True, it was pity, and she hated it. But it was an acknowledgment that she had been hurt… and that was a good improvement. She sat down and snuck a peek at Cheriour through the stray strands of ivory hair. He was sitting in his spot, his nose poorly healed by Raphael. Some dried blood was noticeable under his nose, and he wore a sour little frown. She fought the urge to laugh.

And then she heard the stomping of Michael's boots as he entered, and he did NOT fight the urge to laugh. "OH! LOOK AT YOU!" Michael grinned, and she watched him point right at Cheriour, who seemed to not notice him. "SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING STUPID?" He laughed boldly.

Cheriour's frown twitched in derision.

"Michael, please be seated and try to keep from speaking out of turn…" Uriel sighed to the fellow Elemental.

"Yeah, yeah." Michael said as he sat next to Nema.

The Angel of Judgement held a hand to his forehead, clearly about to have a nervous breakdown. "May Michael please come to the stand."

Michael smiled as he said his oath and waited for Uriel to begin. "Name and rank."

"Michael. Powers."

"It was said that Cheriour was a possible candidate for Powers."

"Yeah?"

"You were unaware?"

"It's news to me."

"Then you would have chosen him for Powers if you had known?"

"If he had the balls, sure. The rank of Powers is a special, primarily military rank. Warriors fall into that rank, so I test them. If they don't pull through, they're out. Boot camp." Michael stated this all matter-of-factly. "But he doesn't have the balls. I saw the broadcast. He was afraid I'd start shit, feh! If he's afraid of that, then I don't want him."

"… I see. You were also given the rank of Guardian Angel at one point in time."

"That's not really a rank, is it?"

"… It is a subdivision among the rank of Angel. Which brings me to my next question. As Powers, you are of too high a rank to be given that title. So how is that you became a Guardian Angel?"

"Well I wasn't lying to you, if that's what you think. That was the first thing I said when I found out that I was going to be a Guardian Angel for a while. Not that anyone LISTENED to me." Michael rolled his blue-green eyes. "Go ahead and check the papers. I'm not lying to you. It's official."

"Then you have no idea why you were given that title?"

"None."

Uriel nodded. "… And who was assigned to be your Guarded?"

"It was Nema." Michael nodded toward her, and she regarded him with a smile.

Here's where it was gonna get a little touchy… Uriel paused for a while and began. "… We have had some discussion concerning the life of one Mudou Nemaelle from her birth until… an unfortunate event. It would appear that she has led a rather disappointing life. Why is this?"

Michael suddenly lost a great deal of his smug demeanor. "… What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, though he already knew.

"As a Guardian Angel you are assigned to protect your Guarded. But it would appear that there have been several instances that she could have used your aid."

Michael said nothing.

"… In her fifth year of schooling, children began throwing stones at her. This is more than teasing; it is crossing the line into abuse. Where were you for this event?"

"… I don't know." He said quietly.

"… At the age of twelve, she was raped. Where were you?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Michael snapped.

"… Then why has your Guarded been neglected?

"I. Don't. Know."

"Did you believe that, as an I-Child, she was not important?"

"NO! DON'T YOU FUCKING WEAVE UP IDEAS, URIEL! YOUR JOB ISN'T TO INSTIGATE SHIT!" Michael exploded.

"Then give me a better answer than 'I don't know.'"

"BUT I DON'T KNOW!" His hands flew up in the air. "I don't KNOW where I was when this happened or when that happened! I DON'T! And I know that's horrible, so fucking shoot me, then!"

"Michael –"

"And I don't KNOW why I neglected her, okay? I don't know what I was thinking! I mean, LOOK at her!" Michael waved a hand over to her. "She is… She is WONDERFUL! I don't know what I was thinking… Okay, maybe I was thinking some fucking stupid shit. Like… I don't know, like 'I'm better than this' type of stupid BULLSHIT! It was fucking dumb! I mean, so what if I was too high a rank, right? Should've done my job, right? So I don't know what I was thinking! I would fucking punch my own lights out if I could go back in time to confront myself!"

"Michael."

"WHAT?"

"Calm down." The Fire Angel sneered at the Judge. "… So you acknowledge that you were too high a rank for the job, but you feel that you should have performed the duty, anyway. Is this correct?"

"Yeah. I mean, rank doesn't matter." Michael nodded to himself. "It was a job. And she is a good person. I love her."

"You made that abundantly clear when you proposed to her. So you regret neglecting Nemaelle?"

"You have no idea."

The words were said soberly, and the look on his face was sincere. Uriel could feel the changes that had taken place and wondered if this was even the same Michael he knew. He wondered if Michael himself was asking the same thing: What happened to him? "… And then there was a point in time when you were actually sent to Assiah for the sole purpose of protecting her."

"Yeah." Michael nodded. "It was when the Rabbit Hunting really started pickin' up. Cheriour was taking trips down to Assiah to kill off Rabbits in hiding."

"And you chose to start protecting her then. Why?"

"… Because I was told to?"

"And you could have neglected to do so, again. What made this situation different?"

That made Michael stop and think. "… I don't know. It was a direct order. I just… decided I would take it." After a pause he mumbled. "… She did see me earlier that day."

"… It is against the law to show yourself to your Guarded unless it is an urgent time or it was commanded by God."

"Yeah, see, I know, but I don't really care." Michael shrugged. "I was down in Assiah – and I know that's illegal, too, chill – and this asshole in this cheap excuse for some kind of store starts saying shit, like 'get out of here, foreigner!' and some crap like that. But I can feel the aura around him. That guy was a Grade-A Demon, and he was pickin' a fight. So I figured, okay, fine. Let's fight. So I deal his store a big ol' blow or three and I run off, 'cause I'm sick of dealing with him." A grin took over his lips. "And she got in my way."

"You got in MY way." Nema muttered quietly.

"And to be honest she pissed me off, pickin' on me because I'm… you know… a little smaller than most full grown Angels."

"WHAT?" Nema let her voice raise up and be heard. "Fuck you! You PLOWED into me! It's not like I'm camouflaged! You should've seen me!"

"Hey! Don't talk out of turn!" Michael teased her. "Anyway, so we got into a fight but then I went off. I didn't wanna deal with her. … Besides, she was cute. She should GRATEFUL that I didn't RUIN her face!"

Nema mumbled in her seat.

"… So you agreed to watching over her because you thought she was cute."

"I dunno. Maybe."

That wasn't a very great answer, but by this point, Uriel just didn't care. "And during this time you spent a hefty amount of time protecting her."

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, it wasn't really hard or anything."

"And according to some reports here… there is something about Harajuku nighttime brawls. Explain these."

"Oh, those!" Michael grinned. "Those aren't a big deal, either. See, Nema likes to do this thing on Sundays, where she goes to Harajuku and parades around in all her petticoats and mini-crowns. But now that the Rabbit Hunting was getting really intense, I couldn't really let her go off and do that, so I decided that maybe we could get away with it by adding my own twist. So we'd go at night, instead, and beat the shit out of the Rabbit Hunters that went after us. And you know what? There's nothing cooler than watching a lolita beat the crap out of someone… Seriously, the irony is fucking awesome."

"So you were on friendly terms with Nemaelle."

"Well why not?" Michael scoffed. "Well, we had our issues, but I considered her a friend."

"This is quite a drastic change compared to your previous treatment of your Guarded."

"… Yeah. Yeah, I know."

"And you can spot no clear reason for why this happened?"

Michael paused. "… No. Yeah. Maybe."

"An answer like that won't do –"

"I know it won't!" The Fire Angel snapped. "… Maybe there are lots of reasons, you know? I don't know WHY I decided to go down there at first. I mean, she was cute, but I couldn't stand her! I really couldn't! Sometimes I wanted to strangle her; that's how much I hated being there! But, you know… it was really fucking stupid of me. I ruined her life." He ignored the mumbles coming from the room. "That's the truth. I let it fall apart, because I am a fucking idiot…! But… I wanted to make that up to her. You can't spend all that time in a big empty house with a girl and NOT get to know her, and… she deserves better. It's not like she is a horrible girl. She's not. She's beautiful, and I mean that in every way. And I guess… after a while, that was what it was about."

"You wanted to make it up to her."

"Yes."

"… And the relationship with your Guarded was platonic. There were no feelings of intimacy, other than the protectiveness a Guardian Angel awards the Guarded?"

Michael said nothing again.

"… Answer the question, Michael."

"… There were some." Even though the room had been witness to Michael's proposal, they began to murmur like gossiping old women.

"You did harbor some lustful feelings for her?"

"Not lust." He said firmly. "Not just lust. There was more to it than that."

"Did you pursue her?"

"She pursued me first." Michael sneered at the sudden increase in murmurs. "She didn't throw herself on me, if that's what you fucking idiots are thinking! Let me fucking finish!"

After it got a little quiet, Uriel said, "Finish, then."

"… I think… she got a little starry-eyed. I mean, Nema does that a lot. Her mind gets carried away, and that's why she has these huge ambitions. And that's good! I wouldn't want her to lose that."

"Do not branch away from the subject at hand, Michael."

"Why don't you let me finish before you say shit like that?" Michael quipped and continued, "… Think of it this way. She's always alone, right? And then… someone falls into her life, and they're always there, and they're always protecting her. It's easy to admire that someone… if that's something you've never had before. That makes sense, doesn't it? So it wasn't like she got a little needy and picked me. She… felt cared about. That's not something you want to let go."

"Oh, a damsel in distress for this shining knight, here." Cheriour muttered from his corner.

"Damn right." Michael shot back at him.

Uriel ignored this. "So you did not reciprocate?"

"… Not at first. Not really."

"Explain."

"I mean, I didn't play along with anything. I'm not a complete idiot…! She didn't know about me being her Guardian Angel, and on top of that, if I DID do anything, we could get caught and then that's more Hell than I wanted to deal with!"

"But did you have an attraction to her, in spite of this?"

"… Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"And then one night, this changed. You performed…" Uriel cleared his throat. "… A rather hefty sin with her."

Again, Michael was silent.

"… Cheriour provided us with some particularly… revealing footage on it."

The Earth Angel watched Michael's eyes become a very bright green. "You watched it?"

Uriel nodded, and Michael went pale. "… I need an answer for the transcripts. If not I will have to play the footage –"

"I had sex with Nema." Michael rushed on. "So what? So I had sex with her…! You're not playing that fucking tape! It's not anyone's business!"

"Why did you commit such an act?"

"Why are you making it sound so fucking EVIL?" Michael snapped. "It's not! Cheriour… fuckin'… RAPING Nema, now that's evil! PURE FUCKING EVIL! But that's not at all like… what I did. It's not!" Michael turned to face the room and waved a hand toward Nema, who was blushing like mad. "I LOVE HER! And you go ahead and gasp and giggle behind your fucking hands, I don't fucking care! It's some kind of fucked up system we live in… so I love her. So what? What do you want me to do about it? Swallow it and keep on beating some Rabbit Hunters every Sunday night, and just ignore the fact that the girl I want wants me back? Am I supposed to just let that kind of bullshit build up and let her go on thinking stupid things like, 'What's wrong with me?' and 'I'm too ugly.' … Fucking horrible things that aren't true! 'Cause if I do that, I'm a fucking asshole and I'm not doing my job and making her happy! … You know what? Fuck that. It's not even really about being a Guardian Angel. If I let her go on thinking things like that… then I'm a dick for not being a good person, and I'm not the right guy for her, then. … And maybe I got tired of not being the right guy! And I got tired of lying to her and to me for some fucking ideal I don't even really believe in… especially when an old friend of hers pops up like a bat out of Hell and tries to take her away! I got sick of it!"

He finally paused. Uriel cleared his throat again, and Michael turned around to face him.

"… So I gave in. I told her I loved her in the deepest way anyone can, and I don't regret it. I made love to her. So sue me." And the Fire Angel looked up, and his eyes had become a brilliant blue that burned into Uriel's soul with the following words. "I didn't want to wait too long."

It took a while for Uriel to react, because the words really did bite into him, whether Michael had meant for it to be that way or not. Suddenly, Uriel wanted to take another recess all over again, but he fought against that urge. "… You may step down, Michael. … May Nemaelle please rise and come to the stand." The Earth Angel allowed Michael to brush his hand down hers as they passed. "… Do you confirm all that Michael has said?"

Nema was still blushing, but she tried to ignore the heat all over her face. "Yes."

"It is true, then, that you were attracted to him and pursued him first?"

"… As long as it's clear that I wasn't seducing him, ever. Then yes, I'd say that's true."

"Then there was no refusal on your part the night the sin took place?"

"It wasn't a sin." Nema said firmly. "And there was no refusal… I did want it." She ignored the hum of the murmuring in the room.

"Now… what happened the day after the s- the event."

This made the blush instantly drop from Nema's face. "… The morning after?"

"Yes."

"… Cheriour and his men… they took Michael away. He was gone for a week… And I remember being… very heartbroken. I felt used. I felt sick. On the seventh day… I decided that I would commit suicide."

"And this was how you wound up in Hades?"

"Yes and no. I… was going to commit suicide, but Michael broke out of prison with Raphael's help and stopped me just in time. It was at that moment that I found out that Raphael and Michael were Angels… but they had to leave, and then I was attacked by Rabbit Hunters… and I fell. It was an accident, but originally it was going to be a suicide."

"… I see."

"And I remember that Raphael had stolen my body and brought it to you… and he revived me in Hades. And I stayed with you for a while."

This brought a wave of confused words that mingled into an incoherent mass. Uriel tapped his new gavel on the desk to silence it. "Yes, I remember giving you refuge for a time. But this was temporary. Please state what changed this."

With a lop-sided smile, Nema went on. "I found some books on the I-Children and got angry."

"And why were you angry?"

"Why shouldn't I have been angry?" Nema quickly retorted. "Anyone with a heart would be offended to find out their kind has been oppressed and murdered. You didn't expect me to just sit there and shrug it off, did you?"

Uriel tried to hide the wry smile on his face. "No, that wouldn't be quite like yourself."

"Exactly." Nema replied. "You remember what happened after that. I confronted you about it."

"You demanded war."

"It seemed like that would be the very best solution. We were being killing left and right. The quickest way to at least slow down the death rate was to fight back."

"But I advised against it."

"And I ran away."

"Because you are much too stubborn." Uriel gave up and let the smile show on his face.

Nema smiled back. "No, I'm stubborn ENOUGH. There's a difference."

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"… Is there some way to record all of this?" Doll wondered aloud.

"Definitely something we'd want to save!" Barbiel smiled, and Abel agreed with a loud laugh.

"Fucking NUTS." Katou said behind a mouthful of cookie. "A proposal, a shitload of loud arguments, and Nema broke that Cheriour guy's nose. This is the most fucked up trial I've ever heard of!"

"I'm sure Uriel would agree."

"… He is smiling." Doll said with a smile of her own.

"Spoke too soon," Barbiel pointed to the hologram before them, and the image of Uriel quickly shaking off the smile that had formed on his face.

Katou swallowed his cookie and absorbed the silence that filled the room. "… You'd think he'd at least be trying to get over this, by now…!"

"KATOU!" The two female voices quickly reprimanded him.

"What?" Katou held his hands up. "He told me HIMSELF that he doesn't love you, Doll! If that's the case, there isn't much reason for him to be moping around ON CAMERA like this!"

"… But it is still heartbreak." Doll reasoned quietly. "And Uriel was always particularly sensitive."

"… Doll, we should try to find Uriel a nice girl." Barbiel suggested as Abel played with her fingers.

"You're gonna find a girl who's fine with living in Hades forever, with a big brooding guy." Katou snorted. "I think Uriel needs to reevaluate himself and change his outlook on life before he'd even really get anywhere…"

"Not big and brooding, you're looking at it wrong!" Barbiel waved off Katou's honesty with her hand. "It wouldn't be so hard, after all… he's the tall, dark, handsome type. Women everywhere kill for that kind of man."

"What's this about the tall, dark, handsome type?"

The trio turned to see that Jinho had appeared for a visit, though they only knew of him through some minor association with Raphael.

He took off his trademark top hat and bowed. "How is this fine bunch today? I've been hearing rumors that Nemaelle's little trial idea materialized as of today…!"

"Then you heard right. Cookie?" Katou held up a tray.

Jinho laughed in his smooth, gentlemanly way and took one cookie to be polite. "Then I should report this to Lucifer-sama at once…"

"Here. Take this with you, then!" Katou tossed what looked like little more than a tabloid at the dandy goth Demon.

Jinho looked over the image on the cover, and his ink-black eyes widened in mild surprise and happiness. "Oh, won't this be pleasant news…!"

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One of the things that made Jinho one of Lucifer's favorite Demons was that he was very prompt and knew exactly what was asked of him. True, he was not a Satan (though Jinho did wish that he could take on the title of Lust; however, Asmodeus was more than perfect for that role), but he managed to keep a level head… which was really saying something down in the depths of Hell. Jinho laughed and waved to a merrily traveling Mad Hatter, who tipped her top hat along with him and winked an eye covered with black makeup in the shape of a diamond. She must have succeeded in kissing Lucifer or something…

"Sometimes I would rather like to kill the girl… man… thing."

A female laugh echoed in response. "But I like her presence."

"She wants to fuck me. You realize this."

"That's only because she knows you won't let her."

Jinho swallowed the laugh building up in this throat and began to press on through the wall. He heard the annoyed grumble from his Dark King turn into a sigh of relief when he realize that it was Jinho, and not the Mad Hatter. "Ah, Jinho. Very prompt." Lucifer greeted, pretending to not care that Alexiel was wiping a black kiss mark off his cheek.

"I come with wonderful news." Jinho said after bowing.

"The trial is real?"

"Very real. It is being broadcast throughout Heaven, and for some reason Hades, as I speak."

Lucifer nodded, an icy but happy little smile making his features just a little more amiable, for once. "… Good. I know she had been really craving that dream."

"But there is more…!" Jinho held up a finger to halt any further words, and held forth the paper in his hands. He watched as Lucifer and his Dark Queen leaned forth to observe the image and read the caption on the bottom, and he positively grinned as Alexiel grinned and clapped her hands twice.

"A sister-in-law…! Now I will have one…!" Alexiel said with a happy sigh. "And such a good girl, too. I truly am fond of her!"

Lucifer, in his usual fashion, kept a small, barely-there smile on his face. "… Well, then. My little brother is right, now. Nemaelle is not my niece. Not anymore."

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AUTHORESS NOTE: It had been a while since I'd written anything with Jinho, Lucifer, or Alexiel, so I thought that was a good way to end this chapter.

… That and I'm creeping up on 21 pages. Seriously, I don't think that's healthy. But at least it's a nice, meaty update for you!

It was also nice to write a little more of Doll and Katou. Oh yes, and I actually mentioned the Mad Hatter, finally! XD I know I haven't really done anything with her. Of course, Impy doesn't really focus much on Hell, anyway, and she seems to want to spend a lot of time down there… well, that IS where Lucifer is, and all.

Also, this is chapter 39! If I don't finish this by 42 chapters, I WILL be scared of myself! So this is it…! So very near the end, now! It's been a very long road, hasn't it? Yes… Yes it certainly has…! XD


	40. Chapter 40

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Forty _

By: Brenli

Hours and hours passed. Nema spoke. Michael spoke. They found themselves repeating the same messages over and over again. He had been lied to. She had been lied to. But she continued to fight a war for the greater good. And he continued to get lost in whatever sick web had been weaved around him. And their hearts suffered and broke many times, but Michael made sure to point out that Nema had suffered more. She had denied this each time, but he was quick to tell Uriel that Nema had a rather large humble streak, and did not ask for pity OR praise in most cases.

They were the ones who spoke the most, which was fitting. Setsuna and Jibril spoke a couple times more. Raphael also took a turn at the stand. But it was mostly Nema and Michael who stood. Sometimes Nema shifted her weight from side to side because her feet began to ache. And Michael would lean forward and cross his arms over the edge of area in which he stood to give testimony, for the exact same reason.

Over time, the pair almost forgot the weight of the trail. They became absorbed in telling their story. Soon, that's all it was. Storytelling. And they did not notice how the colder, crueler half of the courtroom was softening more and more as they watched them speak. Or, more particularly, was they watched HER speak. She was unbelievably pale and foreign-looking to them, but she was animated, she moved and spoke like any other Angel, and most importantly, she made them feel like perhaps she had felt too much pain. Even for an Improper Child.

"… And that brings us to here." Nema waved a hand around the room as she leaned on her left hip, "And for now, that's all there is to it."

Uriel nodded. "Then you have finished your story."

Nema felt a laugh bubble up inside her as she realized that was all she'd been doing all day. "Yes." And she turned to face the room. "… So now I've spent all day telling you my life story. I know you must all have numb legs, and I apologize for that… I'd imagine Uriel will all offer you a recess, soon. And when you take the recess I'd like you to think over all of what you've been told today, and remember that even though Michael likes to SAY I'm being modest, I'm not. My life has been easy compared to many other Rabbits'. And I want you to wonder if you could have dealt with a life like mine, or worse than mine. … And before you vote for or against my plea for equality, I want you to ask yourself if you have someone you could afford to love."

She allowed the murmur of confusion to grow. "… It's not a silly question. I believe it's important. I'm going to present statements of a more logical kind, now. As Queen of the Revolution, I have a better idea of how many Rabbits exist than many of you do… There is a hefty amount. And in my opinion, that's not a problem. But I have spoken with many of them, and have heard of results from the military surveys Michael dished out when he joined me… and 96 percent of the Rabbits are not born of Rabbit and Rabbit relations."

"She feeds you lies." Cheriour spoke from his corner, which had become considerably darker after she had broken his nose.

"I have papers, official data that you may check." Nema retorted. "… Of that 96 percent, 52 percent are born of Rabbit and White Wing bearing. The rest are born of two White Wings, like myself… And I know that many White Wings have stepped forth today and turned themselves in for what is still considered a crime… such as Raphael." She bowed to him in respect. "I admire that bravery… But I have seen how many are cuffed… and unless the ones that are cuffed had families of 12 or more, there are more White Wings out there that have made Rabbits."

The room was silent.

"I'm not asking you to confess. That's not what I'm here for, and you have the right to keep quiet about what you've done behind closed doors. But if you have ever loved someone… or if you have given birth to a child, and given that person up because it was wrong… I want you to know that this is the chance to change that. I have orphans that can learn to love their parents. And I know many people that are waiting for their lovers to come back to them… If you left your child behind, or broke your lover's heart because you felt like you HAD to… you DON'T have to, anymore. I want to change that, not for myself, not for Michael. For you."

"More lies. For all we know, she is pregnant and just wants to ensure that her bundle of sin gets a cozy cradle." Cheriour mumbled.

"For your information, I'm NOT pregnant, and I can take a pregnancy test if you don't believe me. Thank you." Nema snapped, temporarily losing composure. "… I'm also doing this for my kind. NOT because I think we deserve big mansions and condos with backyard pools and whatever other ritzy things… oh, and it's not about cozy cradles, either." Nema bit back her sneer. "… I am tired of hiding. All of the Rabbits are. We want nothing more than to walk out in the sunlight without having to worry about death. We want to be able to breathe in the same general area as you. We wouldn't mind talking to you, now and then. We don't want to hide… we have taken some very wide measures. Living in the ghettos withIN the ghettos. Hiding underground. Running for Assiah. I have heard stories about having to hide underground in ASSIAH. … And I know a man that denies his identity as a Rabbit to save his own skin, and he is lucky enough to get away with it." After a pause, Nema turned to Uriel again. "… I think that I may know two men that deny being Rabbits."

Uriel looked down at the Rabbit Queen. "… Are you going to reveal them, Miss Mudou?"

"… One asked to remain unidentified, should the trial go against me, and I uphold that request. The other man may not be a Rabbit, but I have reason to believe that he could be. … And I would like to reveal him."

Nema turned again, and lifted one snowy finger in the direction of a sullen-looking man. "I accuse Cheriour of being a full-fledged Rabbit."

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"… What the fuck?" Katou's cookie dropped from his hand.

"That's not for real, right?" Doll looked to Barbiel.

"It hardly seems possible…" Barbiel replied, "Making an accusation like that makes no sense. What does Nema even gain from saying that?"

"That and this Cheriour prick has been slaughtering Rabbits for God knows how long…!" Katou snorted. "No one's gonna buy it. Nema just fucked up… people are gonna think she's a loon."

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"You're a loon…!" Cheriour growled from his seat. "You've made perhaps the most illogical, idiotic comment I've ever heard…! How typical of a Rabbit…!" He finished in a low hiss.

"If it's so idiotic, wipe that scowl off your face and stop acting like you've got something to hide!" Nema snapped back. "I have paperwork…" And with that Raphael stood and brought Uriel a thick pile of papers.

"And these would be…?" Uriel asked with a dark, arched brow.

"They are reports and general records of Cheriour." Nema told the Earth Angel. "All the files the I could find, and for your convenience they are ordered from the earliest found till the most recent."

Uriel thumbed through the papers. "… Are you sure?"

"I have checked them myself."

"… Then the earliest known records of Cheriour are from near the beginning of the Rabbit Hunting?"

"That is not true!" Cheriour said firmly. A barely noticeable tremor shook his voice.

Nema looked over her shoulder at him. "Then feel free to supply more paperwork." She looked again toward Uriel. "There are no school records or training records of any sort. These are things he would have received in his childhood, with or without a rank. But most importantly… there is no birth certificate. There IS no Cheriour. Cheriour does not exist."

The room was silent until Uriel looked to Cheriour and asked him, "… Do you have a birth certificate to present to us, Cheriour?"

There was a long pause, but every Angel in the room clearly saw him shaking. "… This is PATHETIC and POINTLESS!" Cheriour stood. His icy demeanor was gone, and he was a very different man. His eyes remained hidden behind his blonde bangs, but his scowl did a good enough job of expressing his anger. "What does this have to do with this trial? It is irrelevant!"

"My autobiography was irrelevant. It's your turn to give up something 'irrelevant,' too." Nema told him.

Cheriour appeared ready to scream at her, but Uriel pressed on. "… A birth certificate, Cheriour?"

He continued to frown. "… I have none readily available."

"… I would also like to say that I knew a woman that I wish were alive today. Her name was Nyssa… she was responsible for a Rebellion that was short-lived due to a personal heartbreak. Because she loved a man that decided to fight against her and killed her family… That man's name was Ashriel, and he was a Rabbit that turned against his kind because he believed in the ideal that damned himself." Nema took an unsure pause before pressing on. "… I have no birth certificate for an Ashriel. That is one of the problems that comes with being a Heaven-born Rabbit. But I do have this…" Now Raphael brought forth another stack of papers. "Nyssa's family had been killed in an attack on the slums she had lived in. What you have before you, Uriel, is a death count. On the second page I have highlighted Ashriel's name…"

"… Yes, I see that." Uriel said as he flipped over one page.

"If you observe the date of Ashriel's death and the earliest known records of Cheriour's, you'll notice they are only one week apart. … I know one week is a bit long, but I think it's enough to wonder if…"

"HOW DARE YOU MAKE UP LIES!" Cheriour suddenly exploded, causing the room to gasp. "YOU LITTLE WHITE-HAIRED, RED-EYED WITCH! WHAT DO YOU GAIN FROM TELLING THEM THINGS LIKE THIS?"

"Nothing." Nema's ruby-red eyes pierced into him. "Absolutely nothing. But I'm doing this for Nyssa… Because she deserves it."

It was true, however, the Uriel did not know what to do with this information. So after a long pause, the Angel of Judgement took up his gavel and tapped it twice. "The host of Angels shall begin the vote. This will take quite some time… so we will not return to this courtroom until the sun has set."

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"NEMA! NEMA, A QUESTION, PLEASE! WHY DID YOU BRING UP THAT INTERESTING CHERIOUR/ASHRIEL IDEA?"

"… Nyssa was regarded as insane by the Rabbits because she told them that Cheriour was Ashriel. After finding out it's definitely a possibility, I thought I would at least prove her right, even if it was after her death."

"So then you REALLY believe that Cheriour is Ashriel?"

"I think so, yes."

"MICHAEL!"

"WHAT?" The Fire Angel screamed back.

"You've been notorious for saying that you will love no woman! What makes this girl different?"

"Isn't that fucking obvious? LOOK at her! She's gorgeous and she'll fucking kick your ass! Wanna see?"

"NO, NO THAT'S OKAY!"

"MICHAEL, NEMA!"

"YES?" They yelled back in unison.

"DID YOU PLAN THAT PROPOSAL?"

Nema looked at Michael, who cleared his throat. "… No, I'm too fucking awesome to PLAN proposals!"

"… WHERE'S THE RING?"

"WHEN DO YOU PLAN ON GETTING MARRIED?"

"WHERE WILL YOU HAVE THE HONEYMOON?"

"ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE KIDS?"

This made the couple step back and blink rapidly as the cameras flashed. The last question made Nema blush, so she half-hid behind Michael as he answered, "No ring yet; don't know when, BUT PROBABLY SOON; don't know where we'll have the honeymoon, and we DEFINITELY don't know if we're having kids!"

The reporters were talking as if Nema had already won, and the Rabbits were free…

Cheriour felt sick. There was no way all of his carefully executed work had been for nothing…!

All because of… a little bunny girl?

Oh, he would have none of that. None.

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The sun set, and very slowly the people filtered into the courthouse, silent as the grave, awaiting the appearance of the Great Judge, Uriel. Nema had looked and noticed that Cheriour had returned with his Rabbit Hunting cloak flowing over his shoulders, clutching the sides tight against him as he stood with that firm scowl and the blonde hair covering his eyes.

Michael reached out to touch her hand and realized that it felt cold as death. She looked so nervous, he was surprised she wasn't trembling… He opened his mouth to say something, but then Uriel appeared, and everyone rose in respect to him, and than sat back down.

Uriel maintained a cold, strict face. "The verdict is in…" He began, and his voice seemed to echo.

They waited with baited breath.

"And Mudou Nemaelle…" Finally, even Uriel had to let himself award her with a smile. "You are innocent."

Innocent… guilty of nothing, not of living or loving… guilty of NOTHING.

Nema had not allowed Uriel to go on and state what Cheriour's sentence would be, as he was now guilty of war crimes and rape. She had stood, wide-eyed and shocked, and then hopped and pronounced a great big flurry of foreign words, words from Assiah that she hadn't used in a very long time.

The rest of the room, caught up in the excitement, did not allow Uriel to continue, either, as they stood and gave a great cheer in Nema's honor. And after a trial as strange as this, Uriel did not CARE. He'd rather just say the rest of the verdict the next day, when the general public had calmed down at least a LITTLE. And as he watched Nema nearly tackle Michael and give him a great big kiss, he was sure that probably was the best thing to do, anyway. Everyone was too happy. Why spoil it with talking about punishments?

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"Yes!" Doll cried gleefully, stealing the last cookie from Katou before he could eat it.

"Hey!" Katou snapped.

"You're fat!" Doll replied curtly.

"And you're evil!" Katou grumbled, trying his best to hide the smile on his face.

And Barbiel bounced little Abel in her arms and laughed along with him. "Abel, sweetie… we'll get to take you to your REAL home, now…!"

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He felt sick.

God, he felt sick…! He'd lost… he had LOST! Cheriour couldn't breathe. He looked behind him. This side of the room… had BETRAYED him…! They even stood and applauded for her…

Behind the curtain of blonde hair, Cheriour's eyes narrowed, and his arms, hiding under his cloak, began to shake in anger. And he watched her, spreading out her black wings in a daring show that made many of the White Wings slightly uneasy, but intrigued.

That little bunny girl… "YOU RUINED IT!" He suddenly cried, "FUCKING RABBIT!" He swore crudely.

And it happened so fast, yet it seemed to move so slow. For in the heat of such a strange trial, Cheriour wasn't checked for weapons, and he brought out two short swords he'd held in the straps against his back, hiding under that black Rabbit Hunter cloak.

And he cut through five White Wings because they got in his way… and Nema was trying to run to him and attack in return, but was caught in the pandemonium of running bodies and guards trying to pull her away. They tugged and tugged on her snowy arms, and she pulled and pulled.

And then she screamed.

And Michael watched it in slow motion… or at least, that was how it had seemed. The two blades slicing down through the black feathers, and the flesh, and the bone…

And Nema fell to the ground, wingless.

That was the cue to run for their dear lives. Everyone ran. Uriel, and Cheriour, and Raphael. Setsuna and Jibril had initially tried to stay, but Raphael had ushered them out, and the courthouse temporarily became Hell.

Then no one was there except for 5 dead bodies and Michael himself. In the midst of the chaos, Nema had scrambled into hiding somewhere, leaving behind the two big, beautiful black wings that Michael had adored.

The Fire Angel's wide green eyes fell to the vision of these two wings. Those couldn't possibly be her wings… That just… could NOT be right.

… There were going to get MARRIED, for God's sake!

And then he heard a strange kind of moaning, something mixed with a sob, coming from behind the tall podium where Uriel had stood for the trial. Michael sprinted to the sound. Then he began to wish hadn't done so.

Two slightly feathery stubs were all that was left of Nema's beautiful ebon wings. She was half-curled up on the floor, making those sobbing kinds of moans, her white flowing all around her. She was in the throes of a very specific and dreaded kind of pain.

Michael's brain went on overload. It made him forget what she would be turning into, and instead of running away, he ran TO her, and gently touched her face. Nema's whole body went into a spasm at the feeling of flesh, and Michael asked her the dumbest question ever. "Nema! Are you okay?"

She responded with a scream as she pulled away from his touch, falling away from him, crawling away.

"NEMA!" Michael called out. The worry was so foreign coming from his lips, but with too many things running through him, he could not find it in himself to care. He thought he was already near tears.

"… It hurts…" Nema said this in a small, pained kind of whine. She sounded more like a wounded animal and less like herself. A wave of burning pain took over her, but she fought it. So long as Michael was here, she would fight it…! "God, it hurts…!"

He was a fool. Oh Lord, there was never was a fool as big as him, for he dropped down and scrambled closer to her. He made stupid demands. "Nema, tell me what's happening! Tell me what to do!"

"THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO!" She howled, and her voice was half beastly, and half human.

And Michael already knew that he could do nothing… but this was not an answer he would accept.

"Please go…!"

"NO!" Michael firmly refused the fragile plea, rushing forth and taking the precious face of hers and pressing kisses all over it. The flesh burned against his lips, which was saying something, for the Angel of Fire, but he continued to kiss her feverish forehead. "I'm not leaving…! You need me…! I'm not gonna leave you anymore…!"

"Go…"

"I'm going to marry you…"

"Go…" Nema choked on a sob, swallowed some growls.

"I'm going to protect you…!"

"FUCKING GO!" She kicked him away from her, and she watched him begin to cringe and press and hand to his head. "… Don't make me do this…" Tears coursed down her cheeks.

She was threatening to kill him… Michael tried to focus his vision on her, but it was hard, with all the pressure against his skull. "… I want you to kill me if you're going out, too. That's the only way I'll take it."

Nema was shaking, but it was difficult to tell if it was just her trying to hold back her inevitable fate, or if there was added sadness to the tremors her body endured. "… I can't do it…!" And Michael felt the pain in his head slip away.

And then Nema was in his arms, pressing a wild kiss to his lips. And Michael wanted to die this way. Let Nema lose herself and become a ghoul… he would be fine with it, if she made him her first mindless kill.

She began to come to a shaky stand, and he stood with her. And then she pushed him. He pulled her back to him, and they stumbled on, giving sad and desperate kisses.

He was pressed against the doors. Nema's kisses traveled in a crooked line down his neck. She was tearing buttons off his shirt, ripping the cloth open, and he thought she was going to make their final moment at least a bit more pleasurable…

But then she sprang up, and this every last ounce of humanity left in her, she whispered, "Do not regret loving me. I will never regret loving you."

And she pushed him through the door she'd unlocked while distracting him with seduction, shut it, and locked it.

And then Michael heard a high pitched scream twist into the lower growls of a ghoul, and he knew Nema wasn't even Nema, anymore.

She was nothing.

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"What happened to the screen here?" Doll asked with a wrinkled brow. "Cheriour cursed and the screen just goes blank?"

"… That can't be good." Barbiel murmured worriedly. "Katou, what are you doing?"

"Calling Setsuna." Katou said as he dialed the number.

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Setsuna would not pick up that call. No, instead he was fall together with Jibril, and the two Angels would mourn the loss of their daughter, and the crowd would be lost and confused, and Uriel would send out orders for a group to break in a shoo the albino ghoul to Hades, where he would deal with it, later.

"… Michael." Raphael called softly to his friend, watching him stand there, the breaths coming shaky and broken, the face streaked with tears he did not register.

And then Michael heard the sound of a cloak flapping in the wind.

He snapped.

"COWARRRRD!" He screamed. He nearly got his arm sliced of while twisting the wrist that held the other, but Michael was not apt to caring at this moment. "FUCKING COWARD!" The sword dropped. Michael managed to steal the over and smoothly tripped the cowardly Angel, Cheriour. "I'LL KILL YOU… I'LL KILL YOU!" Michael did not use the sword just yet. He pummeled the Angel's chest and face, enjoying the bruises that bloomed already, reveling in the nose the broke yet again. The War Angel drowned himself in the bloodlust spurred by death and mourning. "WHAT KIND OF MAN IS IT THAT WILL STRIKE A GIRL AFTER VICTORY'S BEEN CALLED?" He hit him once, twice, three times. "I WILL GIVE YOU PAIN FOR ALL THE BULLSHIT YOU PULLED!" Now Michael stood, stomping hard on Cheriour's chest, enjoying the sound of cracking ribs and watching blood come out of his mouth as he coughed. "Nema and I decided that we would KILL you after the trial…" And the Violent Angel pushed the tip of the sword against Cheriour's throat, and hissed to him, "Trial's over. Now say goodnight!" And he drove the blade in, twisted it, and dragged it out of that Angel's neck.

And that provided Michael with enough satisfaction to keep from killing anyone else…

Except for himself.

Raphael had cried out and ran to him, but Michael still turned the blade toward himself and shoved the cold metal through.

It was a new sensation… killing himself. Strangely, being stabbed through the heart seemed to be a slower death than he thought it was. The pain didn't seem as big a deal, either… and he was familiar with the loss of blood.

And when he blacked out, he was, strangely, one of the happiest men in the world.

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A rough kick startled the poor Archangel into alertness. "… What the fuck?"

"Indeed!" A familiar voice snapped and kicked him again.

"N… Nema?" Michael groaned when she kicked him a third time.

"Who the fuck do you think?" God, she was livid. She moved to kick him a fourth time, but he caught her ankle pulled her down onto the floor.

They began to struggle. They rolled in their attempts to pin each other and soon they were rolling down a slope, which abruptly ended against a wall that Michael hit his head against.

She slapped her palm against his forehead and shoved his head into the wall a second time. The wall was black, as was everything else around them, but Nema had that kind of heavenly glow to her. "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF ME?"

"Because you killed yourself, asshole!" Nema swore right back, but this time she began to cry. "Who told you that's what I wanted?

"What?"

Finally, she pulled away. "… Go home. There are more people that care about you than you think."

"But you're the only one I…" Michael paused. Nema swiped her tears and looked up at him. "… love." He finished. "You are the only one who… knows who I am."

"Everyone knows who you are. You're Michael. And Michael is Michael, and that's exactly why I love you." She gave him a small smile. "You think people expect this and that of you… No one's asking you to be mean all the time. You can be kind, like you were around me… I think you'll find that you're a better person than you think you are."

"Then I want to find that out with you."

"But that isn't an option, anymore…" God, she was trying so hard to keep the tears away. Michael wanted to kiss her until she smiled again. "… I WANT to be there with you… You proposed to me, and I thought that I could die a happy girl, then… I just didn't think that… I actually would."

"Nema –"

"No, I am worse than dead…!" Nema bit her lip to keep back the sob. "But it was beautiful, every moment with you…! And I would do it again, even if that meant I would go out like that…!" She sniffled and smiled. "I do not regret loving you… Please tell me you don't regret loving me."

Now Michael kissed her, brushing her hair back. "I don't."

"Not a day?"

"Not a minute." Michael paused. "… But I will miss you."

Her smile remained, but it began to soften into a frown. "… Then you know what happens next."

The Fire Angel found it in himself to smile a little bit. "… You know?"

"Hmm?"

"There were nights that I thought I'd just been having a great dream… Then I would wake up, and it never was a dream, after all."

Nema nodded, the frown becoming more apparent. "… It won't be like that, this time."

"… I know. But I… can't do anything about that."

"I'm sorry…"

"Me, too."

"It's time…"

"What?"

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"Michael…?"

"… What…?"

"He's coming to. Give him breathing room."

"… God… My chest…" Michael coughed as he stirred in bed.

"Mika-chan…"

"… There's only one bastard that calls me that…" Michael's blue-green eyes slid open and stared up at Raphael's face.

"… Do you hate me?" The Wind Angel asked.

"Hate you?"

"For bringing you back?"

Michael stared up at Raphael for a while, and felt tears build up in his eyes. He blinked them away and allowed them to tumble down his face. "… No. I don't…"

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AUTHORESS NOTE: Hate me now. I know you want to. One more chapter left… No matter how angry you are, stick it out to the very end, minna-san!


	41. Chapter 41

**Improper Guardian**

_Chapter Forty One_

By: Brenli

… Gone. Nema won her war but she was not there to see just what that meant. She is gone.

I'm sure that if I really wanted to, I could count the days from her death till now. It's just that… I don't really care to. Times have changed. Heaven has changed. There is a separate district for all I-Children, though they have the right to go where they want… and they really aren't called that anymore. We've found that their levels of power vary from their parentage and so we have so-called I-Children that are now classified as everything from Angels to Seraphim. But I won't lie. Even though years have passed, relations between them and us have been a little strained. It gets better, however, the more Angels fall in love and decide to have children of their own, because then they finally understand what it means to love someone that much. The district made for them is very large… I'm impressed with it, though I really shouldn't be, because I was there to help design and build it… I was there to take care of all the things that would have been Nema's job. And I think… the only reason they gave me those rights was because they knew that I loved her.

I loved her… and I still do. I love her so much I made a memorial for her… I am sitting here at the middle of it… at the foot of the statue made in her honor. It is lovely. Made of white marble, with rubies for the eyes… She is standing in a proud stance, with her arms held up as she poses with her sword... She looks positively beautiful and strong.

I remember… I wanted the face of the statue to be a comfort to the Angels she fought for. I wanted her face to express a kind of motherly strength and kindness… because that's what she is for a lot of them, even the ones that are older than her. Everyone says that it had been captured perfectly… But I see this sense of sadness in the face. Her lips are turned up in a small smile, but it looks so lonely… I don't know. Maybe that is just my own loneliness reflecting off that lovely face of hers.

I have changed a good deal, too… I'm not sure if this is a good or a bad thing. I hear what everyone says, though… 'the formerly Childish General of the Angelic Army is finally a man.' 'Now he's a true War Angel. A real protector.'

… It's true that I am all those things, now. Because I know now that my own irresponsible, selfish decisions have ultimately led me to my misery. I will never, ever perform an action without considering the consequences for my stupid behavior. Never again. And I understand that, in a way, it's a good thing. No one has to worry about getting hurt around me… unless, of course, they are a threat to the overall good of Heaven.

… But it's just so… empty. I know that Nema would find my changes in behavior to be an inherently wonderful thing, but it's only half the glory if she isn't here to actually express her happiness.

I want her to be here. I know that she should be here, wearing that weird little mini-crown of hers. She should be taking in the fruits of her efforts, and she should be here with me. Loving me, letting me love her. Letting me treat her like my Queen, because she is, in a weird way. Letting me protect her… making sure that she will never know any more pain than she has already felt.

… But sometimes, when I'm feeling a little more self-hatred than usual… I'll come by here, and I'll stare up into that marble replica of that beautiful, beautiful face… and I'll think… that maybe it is better this way. Maybe… I can't trust my heart… you know? Maybe I can't trust it to love her as much as she deserves. With her gone… not near me… I can't hurt her anymore. I know that's all I'd done for the majority of her life. Letting her suffer as she called for my help… cried for my help, and I decided that hunting and causing general havoc was so much more important than the happiness of that wonderful girl… And when I knew her better… All the things I said, all the things I did… She deserved so much better… All I have done is hurt her. Even when I didn't want to… All I did was make her angry and torn up inside, most of the time.

Every now and then, I wonder what's happened to that wonderful soul of hers… I want to believe that somehow she is still out there. I don't want to believe that she suffered the fate of all dead Angels… becoming some ghoul. She is so much better than that kind of personal Hell… I want to believe that Uriel picked up her spirit and put it into some kind of doll, like he did for Doll… I want to believe he did this, and that Nema's down in Hades, and one day, I'm gonna meet up with her again. I honestly want to believe this fantasy… And I know that as one year flows into the next, the less and less it becomes a possibility and the more and more it remains a simple fantasy… But there are times… when it hits me so, so hard… that I need to believe it's true.

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"Uncle MIIIIIKA!"

Blue-green eyes blinked away from his small reverie of sadness and recollection, and for the sake of the little child trying to run his way over to him, he put on a smile. "Hey, it's Abel!"

"I am…" Abel's one blue eye and one red eye blinked for a moment, and then the small, chubby white hand held up two fingers. "TWO!"

"It's your birthday already? I thought that happened, what? Three days ago?"

"Your sense of time is horrible, Mika-chan." Abel's father smiled at the Fire Angel, and then focused on the tape recorder in Michael's hands. "… Should we leave you alone?"

Michael pressed a couple buttons and shrugged. "… I was finished, anyway."

"… So, where have you been all week?"

"You're not gonna believe me."

"Try me."

Michael gave him a dry smirk. "I've been in Hell. Lucifer was having some kind of anniversary feast."

"… Seriously?" Raphael arched a golden brow.

"Seriously." Michael shrugged. "It was okay. Jinho's been whining about this Lilith person he's been betrothed to. I told him to just fucking forget the girl, if he hates her so much. Then he looks at me and he says, 'But what if she ends up being the one meant for me? This is the first time I have ever been matched up with a Demon!'" He laughed. "… Lucifer told me that Jinho HAS had six wives… one at a time. Each human. After the sixth death, Jinho's been afraid of dating humans. He's afraid of… how short the lifespan is."

Raphael allowed Abel to sit beside him as he sat next to his dearest friend. "Couldn't he bite them?"

"He says he'd never damn a girl like that… then he went right back to eating his steak… which was so bloody I'm almost sure it was cut directly from the animal."

"… Yuck."

"To each their own."

Raphael nodded, supposing that was true enough. "… So how are you?"

Michael's blue-green eyes flickered over to Raphael, and then down to the tape. "… I finished talking about… all of it. Today's tape is just… me rambling."

"Does it help at all?"

"It helps me vent… that's about it." The War Angel leaned against the legs of the statue of Nema, something he did whenever he recorded his thoughts and recollections.

Raphael cleared his throat. "… I spoke with Uriel, today."

Michael snorted. "He ALLOWED you to speak with him?"

He smiled a little. "He said that you showed up in Hades… But you didn't really talk to anyone."

Michael was quiet for a moment, but he pushed himself to speak. "… Well, first off, Uriel's been a complete dick for the past two years, and as much as I like him, I wouldn't really WANT to talk to him, lately."

"He's just heartbroken."

"He's not the ONLY bastard who's fucking heartbroken! You don't see ME walking around with my head in the clouds, not saying anything but fucking rude shit! And if you ask me, that asshole is fucking LUCKY! At least the girl he cared about is ALIVE! … At least BOTH of the girls he cared about are ALIVE!" Michael snapped and fumed.

Raphael let him breathe a little before he continued. "… And I guess Katou and Doll aren't worth talking to, either?"

"No, they're okay." Michael swallowed up the anger inside him and sighed. "… They kinda make me think of when I was with… her. So… I don't know. It's good."

"But you didn't talk to them."

"No."

"… Uriel says he found you in the forest…"

"… Yeah." Michael mumbled quietly.

Raphael's smile was sad as he felt the uneasy melancholy begin to flow from Michael. "… You were looking for her."

"It's not like I think she'll be herself!" He replied defensively. "… I know what ghouls look like, and all."

"… Then why do you try, if you know she'll look different?"

"I was on my way home from Lucifer's feast! Sue me if I decided to camp out in Hades!"

"This is the tenth time you've done this."

"FUCK YOU!" Michael yelled. Abel was remarkably resilient to loud remarks, and only arched a snowy brow at the Fire Angel. "I don't expect you to understand."

Raphael sighed and remained silent, focusing on the ground before him.

"… I am pathetic."

"No, don't say that."

"No, that's true. I'm pathetic." Michael shrugged. "It's been about 2 years… Why can't I let go?"

"Mourning takes longer for certain people… and you did fall for her hard and fast. That doesn't help, any."

"… Sometimes I think it's because she isn't really dead. You know… she is worse than dead. She's a ghoul… but that means she still exists, in a way."

"… I had a very weird dream, once."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah… You had kids. Two of them. The boy was friends with Abel."

"… I had kids by myself?" Michael cringed.

"… No. She was there, too."

Michael stood, taking his tape recorder with him. "… Nema would have made a good mother."

"Where are you going?" Raphael called out to him.

Michael did not respond.

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"Hello again, little brother."

Michael's shoulders stiffened. "… What are you doing in Hades?"

Lucifer offered him a careless kind of smile. "Alexiel wanted to visit here. She has a fondness for the forest."

"Things are brighter here. Could you blame me?" The Dark Queen smiled and regarded Michael with a nod of her head. "It is nice to see you more often, Michael. What brings you here?"

Michael looked down at the bag he'd dropped by his feet.

"It would look…" Lucifer casually tapped the bag with his boot, "… as though you'd be planning to camp out here."

The Fire Angel shrugged it off, but the older brother read the sadness in his eyes.

"… Let's go for a walk. Shall we?" Alexiel suggested softly.

Michael shrugged again and began to move forward, complying with Alexiel's request. Oh God, this was an awkward situation… No doubt the wheels were turning in their heads… piecing together the reasons why he'd come down here…

"So, Michael," Lucifer said idly, "Jinho tells me you've given him some advice on his little issue with his match…"

"Yeah. Told him that if he really hates her so much, he should just forget her, then."

"Oh, but I had assumed that you of all people would advise against that." Alexiel's lips pressed into a tiny pout.

"That is true," Lucifer agreed. "You were very much against Nema, if you remember."

"I remember." Michael's mouth turned into a firm line for a moment, and then softened into a frown. "… There are a lot of albino ghouls, here."

"A natural effect of the Revolution and the Rabbit Hunting." Alexiel nodded.

"… Sometimes, I wonder if she's here."

"But she IS here." Lucifer replied to his little brother's soft murmur. "… Unfortunately, the problem is finding her. You are looking for her, aren't you?"

Michael was silent.

"… And what will you do, when you find her?"

"Ghouls were once Angels, but they lack the mind and a good deal of the spirit…" Alexiel added on to Lucifer's question, "However much she loved you, she is not herself, anymore."

"I KNOW THAT!" Michael snapped. "… The last time I was here, I saw an albino ghoul feeding on a dead darker ghoul…"

"A reminder of what the true nature of all ghouls is." Lucifer said gravely. "But as Alexiel often tells me, deep in the core of them is a spark of the Angels they once were."

"It's important to remember that." Alexiel nodded. "Their true nature is to steal what life they can because they remember and long for that kind of completeness. It's just as crucial to know why they function the way they do, as to just what they do."

Michael absorbed the words, feeling them settle like icy shards in his stitched up heart. That was the kind of life Nema was subjected to, now… And Michael had known that already, without the help of his older brother and his dear wife.

He heard a couple dim cries of his name, but he dismissed it. So they had stopped to see something… Good for them. Michael was going to branch off and try to rid himself of the particularly gloomy feelings they'd unintentionally shoved into him.

"PLEASE COME HERE AND HELP ME WITH THIS!"

Okay, that was a particularly weird cry.

Michael turned. He'd had no idea that he'd moved so far ahead from them… and then his eyes widened.

Many loud growls were coming from a thicket, and Lucifer had brandished his sword and begun to march on toward the sounds. Alexiel was waving Michael back to them.

What could he do? He hadn't brought his sword with him… and to be honest he was not interesting in spearing the hearts of some ghouls to save his skin. Especially after the words Alexiel and Lucifer had said.

"MY LITTLE BROTHER SEEMS TO BE A LITTLE DEAF!" Lucifer's voice came out with tones of annoyance that he usually kept in check. "GET OVER HERE!"

The Fire Angel arched a deep red brow. Lucifer was using the flat of his sword's blade to bat at one of three albino ghouls that seemed particularly interested in eating each other… Watching the ghouls try to perform this was weird enough. Watching his cool, calm, and collected older brother batting at one of the three like some kind of strange wimp…?

That was almost priceless.

So Michael joined in the fight, though he did not understand what was going on. If they weren't going to kill the ghouls, then what was the point in struggling with them?

It made sense when Alexiel fought an albino ghoul that sported tufts of darker hair. She had to hit the ghoul several times with the flat of her sword's Angel Crystal blade, but when it seemed dizzy enough, she dropped the Nanatsusaya and placed her hands over it's sunken cheeks. And Michael struck the green-eyed ghoul before him and watched as Alexiel's ghoul began to glow.

He was awestruck, having learned but forgotten that Alexiel, the Organic Angel, could return the unnatural ghoul to it's rightful and natural state… as an Angel.

The flesh began to build up and form muscle, and the white skin lost its ashy appearance and began soft and snowy. And as the hair regrew, white with a layer of black on top, Michael's blue-green eyes widened. He knew that man…

"I have seen you before…" Alexiel said gently as the albino Angel breathed shakily, his black wings quivering as they were remade. "You are Rujiel… aren't you?"

The man tried to take a deep breath. "… I…" And then he collapsed, and Alexiel laid him on the ground gently.

With this she rushed to Michael and took over the fight here, and Michael watched the process repeat itself, and he knew he had seen the woman Alexiel had saved, too.

"Oh, and Nyssa… Correct?" Alexiel said warmly.

"… Correct?" Nyssa merely repeated.

"Your eyes are so dim right now… you must have been the one picked on the most. You can rest now…"

And Nyssa said nothing. Her green eyes, dim with fatigue, drifted down to the body on the ground. This seemed to spark a bit of vitality back into the green orbs, and she pushed away from Alexiel's touch. "… Ruji…!" She couldn't even finish the name. She collapsed over the body, fainting from weakness.

Michael watched the two Rabbits that were magically restored, no longer empty ghouls… saved. Immediately a wish formed in his mind. He squashed it on the spot, not interested in being too hopeful.

But God, it was almost worth it to be that hopeful. After all, there was one more left…

"Any day now, honey!" Lucifer batted the poor ghoul over the head. This time the blow was enough to knock it out.

"Patience is a virtue," Alexiel smirked at her husband and picked up the ghoul. "… Oh, poor thing. This one is bleeding."

"It was bleeding before I got to it," Lucifer said placidly.

"But it had been feasting on Nyssa there…"

"Perhaps it had been lucky enough to escape an attack prior to attackING…"

"No matter." Alexiel said as she cradled the ghoul's face. Her dark eyes flickered over to Michael, whose own eyes were wide as saucers. "Pray for a miracle, little brother…!"

He was never the praying kind, as there was no one to pray to, anyway. But he even as he told himself that optimism would hurt him, he felt the small tremor of hope deep inside him… Hope that 2 years of mourning will not have been pointless…

The skin softened and took on the strange but healthy glow awarded to the Angel formerly known as I-Children. The body began to take on gender… it was a female. A small female… shorter than Michael himself, with long snowy white hair that looked like it would be silky to the touch.

The girl was so short that Michael could not see the face from behind Alexiel's body. Large, beautiful black wings formed, stretched out and flapped once.

"Oh, easy now…! You aren't filled to the brim with energy…" Alexiel bent down a little to peer at her face, and she gave a happy cry and matched Michael's shocked one. "… My sister-in-law!" Alexiel grinned.

"Nema?" Michael was dumbfounded. Completely dumbfounded! Was this for real? Was he really looking at her, like he had been longing for?

The girl's ruby eyes shifted over to Michael, and that was confirmation enough. Nema stumbled forward, falling into Alexiel's embrace, one ivory hand reaching out to her Fiery Angel, "… Mi…"

He sprang forth and reached out a biker-gloved hand, but her fingers suddenly fell limp, and Michael paused, hand outstretched, unsure.

"Silly girl…" Alexiel said softly. "I told you to take it easy."

Michael jumped when he felt Lucifer's hand clasp his shoulder. "… How about that?"

"… It was… luck." Michael stammered under his breath.

"Consider it a gift… a very spontaneous gift." Lucifer smiled down at his awestruck brother.

"OY!" They heard a cry, and suddenly Katou was there with them. "I heard some nasty growls over here…! Are you – what the…?" Katou's blue eyes blinked rapidly as he saw the two bodies on the ground and the one in Alexiel's arms. "Holy shhhh…" He stammered and then dug out his cell phone, flipped it open and dealed a number. "Doll? Get Uriel! … Hey, Uriel. You're not gonna believe this…"

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I don't know where to begin… I don't. It's hard to comprehend where I AM just now… I mean, I can say it. I am in Hades. I am in one of Uriel's many rooms. I am by the window. I had Raphael bring my tape recorder to me… but what's hard to swallow is who's in the bed, sleeping away.

… God, she's back! I don't know what else to say about it. She's back…! This whole scene I'm in right now… it feels like a dream. But the thing is, that happens a lot with Nema… I end up thinking that something is a dream, and it's not.

…

She's back! I know I'm going to listen to this later and call myself a fucking idiot. But right now, I just don't fucking care…! She's back!

Suddenly these past two years… just don't mean anything, anymore. They're not important. What's important is right now. And who's sleeping here because she's just too exhausted.

I guess the process of reverting back from being a ghoul is a tiring process. Alexiel told me that sometimes a reverted ghoul may faint for as long as 5 hours.

Well it's been four. And I can afford to wait one more, or if Nema decides she wants to sleep for longer… Hell, I don't care. At least she's HERE. That's more than I used to be able to say…

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"Is she okay?"

Michael quit babbling and looked up at the albino Angel that had stumbled into the room, letting the recording run. "… She's fine."

Rujiel leaned heavily against the doorframe and nodded. "… She loves you, you know. Even when she was dating me… I mean… it was obvious."

"… Bitter?"

"Hardly…" Rujiel held up one hand in a helpless, albeit tired, gesture. "Nema saw to the heart of me… and she knew that there is only one girl for me. And it was not her."

Michael listened to him and nodded. "… I proposed to her. We were going to get married but then…"

"… Good." Rujiel said with a smile. "Remember to treat her right… that girl loves you like crazy."

This made laughter bubbled up inside him. "… Yeah. I know."

"… RUJIEL!"

"Oh Hell…" Rujiel sighed as Doll suddenly appeared.

"What are you doing? Get back into bed! You're to get plenty of rest! You can visit people later!" And the maid ushered him off.

Michael listened as Rujiel was forced into the bed in the room right next to hers, and returned to his tape recorder. "… That was weird… talking to Nema's ex-boyfriend. He doesn't seem to have ANY bad feelings about me… or his death. A part of me thinks it might just be that he's too tired to pick a fight, but it seemed like he'd really just… moved on, while he was a ghoul. Is that possible…?"

Again, he was interrupted. This time, it was Nyssa, who was running from a frantic Barbiel and collapsing against the door, breathing heavily. She obviously wasn't fit to be running around just yet, but she did it, anyway. "Oh...! Hi…!"

Michael blinked. "… Hi."

Nyssa nodded toward Nema. "She's good?"

"She's fine –"

"Where's Rujiel?" Nyssa blurted out. She offered him a quick smile when he pointed to the room next door. "Thank you!" And then she was gone.

Again, Michael returned to his tape recorder. "… No offense to Nema, but I've noticed that a LOT of Rabbits… act fucking WEIRD, sometimes…"

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"NYSSA! Get back here at once!" Barbiel's eyes widened as she watched the Rabbit rush into Rujiel's room and lock the door. "… This is NOT happening…!" She groaned.

Nyssa leaned against the door and took heavy breaths.

"… N… Nyssa?"

She smiled at the Rabbit sitting up in bed, his black and white hair mussed, his garnet eyes bleary.

"… Nyssa, what are you doing here? You need to lie down…" Rujiel said shakily. And then he felt the dread run through him as Nyssa's bright green eyes began to well up with tears. "… Ny-"

"… I'm sorry!" She stumbled and fell forward.

"NYSSA!" Rujiel reached out to catch her as she fell over him, his heart suddenly skipping beats as he felt her body very nearly melt into his. But he scolded her. "DON'T DO THAT! What if you hit the floor?"

"I don't care…" Nyssa choked out in tears, her pale arms wrapping around his chest.

"… Nyssa…"

"I'm sorry…!" She repeated to him. "… You should have… knocked some sense into me a long time ago, Rujiel…! Why did I ever think Ashriel was right for me? God… I am a horrible person, aren't I?" She clung onto him for dear life, spilling out the words that haunted her while she was lost in the sick, hungry state that all ghouls were subjected to. "Making you suffer just so that I could suffer with a man I wasn't meant to be with… Why didn't I see that the one I needed was right there…? The one who comforted me when Ashriel made me worry… the one that gave me a flower that won't ever die…" She brushed one hand along her tattoo before returning to the embrace she was giving him. "God, I loved the wrong man…!"

Rujiel hands shook as they rested in a loose, unsteady embrace around her shoulders.

"… I love YOU…" Nyssa's voice quivered. "But if I have waited too long… or hurt you too much…"

"You HAVE hurt me too much."

Nyssa bit back the sob building in her throat, but didn't know what to make of the tightening of his embrace.

"… Near the end, there, I was finally beginning to get mad at you… took me long enough, didn't it?" Rujiel sighed. "… But I've meant it, every time I've told you that I love you… And you know that's been a whole lot."

And Nyssa sighed as she felt his press a kiss against the crown of her head.

"And nothing's going to change that."

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… God damn these walls being so thin! … No, it's not like THAT. But that damn Ruji bastard's got that Nyssa girl all crying, "I love YOU…!"

… Dammit, I wish Nema would wake up. So that I can go ahead and tell her, "I love YOU." And I know that she knows… but it has been 2 long years since I have been able to tell her.

It's creeping up on the fifth hour. I feel so fucking stupid just waiting for her to even move, but there's no way I'm leaving this spot. I've decided that when she wakes up, the first words out of my mouth have to be, "I love you." And I will ask her to marry me, and this time I'll do it right. I won't be screaming it to her. I'll be calm this time. And I'll ask her, "Will you marry me…?"

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"… Yes."

Michael's tape recorder slipped from his hands, and he choked on his own breath. After coughing twice, his eyes, wide and a pure, brilliant blue, met the ruby eyes that reflected the moon back at him.

And she nodded and gave him a small smile. "Yes, I will marry you…"

Michael forgot all about his tape recorder, letting it drop to the floor, the tape popping out of the machine. And the Fire Angel went to her and wrapped her up in kisses and kisses and even more kisses, brushes of his lips over hers.

They remained like that for a quite a while… Michael lost track of time. Before he knew it his kisses were getting more urgent.

"Michael, I'm still loopy…" Nema said weakly.

"Loopy is fine."

She laughed softly. "No, you're taking advantage of me…"

"You don't sound like you care much." He mumbled between kisses.

"… Shut up…" She sighed against him.

"NEMA! Oh, you're awake now!"

Michael's eyes did a drastic change from blue to green. It was Jinho, of all people, bowing like a gentleman and ruining a perfect moment. "… Fucking KNOCK, Demon!"

"Oh, but Nema is finally awake! It has been two years, Nema, did you know?"

"No…" Nema said quietly.

"Oh, you look so tired, Nema! Maybe you need more rest –"

"That is a fucking AWESOME idea." Michael leapt to his feet and began shoving Jinho out of the room. "We'll party tomorrow. Tonight Nema will REST. So GO!" And then he shut the door and locked it.

"… WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, I AM NOT SURE HOW MUCH REST YOU WILL ALLOW NEMA TO HAVE ON THIS NIGHT, MICHAEL-SAMA!" Jinho's voice came through the door muffled.

And neither of them did get much rest that night, but they didn't really care. And nobody blamed them.

THE END

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AUTHORESS NOTE: … God, it's… the END! T.T I have been working on Impy for so long… I do promise you that I've become extremely attached to it… It's kind of difficult to let it go. XD

Gah, I don't know what I'm talking about. There is a SEQUEL, after all. That's right, I kid you not! I shall direct reader traffic back to "Layers" – The sequel to my beloved Impy! This particular work is going to be cowritten with the lovely round-eyed sister of mine, AmetrineButterfly, Ametriney!

At this time, I would also like to THANK Ametriney, for the story of the birth of Impy goes something like this:

Brenli: … So I had this weird idea to write a fanfic about Michael being a Guardian Angel.

Ametriney: Do it.

Brenli: You think I should?

Ametriney: FUCKING DO IT!

Brenli: Okay.

… Okay, maybe it wasn't SO threatening, but you get the point. So if there's anyone to thank, it's her. Because I probably would have dismissed ALL OF THIS as a silly daydream if I hadn't been persuaded to write it.

Oh yeah, and one more thing… you didn't HONESTLY think I'd kill Nema off, did you? I mean, I love angst… but God dammit, there are some things you just don't fuck with. Michael is one of those things. I'm not gonna make him heartbroken…! He'd probably… explode and burn the Earth to ashes or something.


End file.
